When the War is Over
by spiritflight3
Summary: The war against Voldemort rages on. Harry left a year ago, but Ginny has had no word from him since he departed. Harry in trouble? Not if Ginny has anything to say about it! Check my profile page for info regrading this story.
1. Chapter 1

When the War is Over: Chapter One

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it)

_One year...Today it's been exactly one year since he left me on my doorstep, the tears pouring down my face and my heart breaking into pieces before him. He promised me he'd write. He promised me he'd let me know, even if it was just the smallest gesture, that he was alive. To this day, I've received nothing. Not one letter, not one single word. I haven't heard from my brother or Hermione either. Mum says to be patient. Mum says that they are fighting a very important war, and to keep us all safe, we must all make certain sacrifices for the greater good. Should one of those sacrifices be the man I love? Should I loose a brother...or a friend? How much is enough to satisfy the will of the world?_

I'm laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It's harder for me to get up these days, I just lack the energy, the motivation. Mum is worried, I've heard her talking to dad late at night, whispering how their 'losing' me. Strangely, even that doesn't affect me. I'm not scared of being lost. I was lost the day he went away...

A knock at my door, I don't even turn my head, I haven't got the energy. Mum enters the room, carrying a handful of clean socks. She puts them in my top drawer and than she settles down beside me on the bed. I turn my head away and stare out the window. A cloud of birds rises up over a nearby field, circling in the cloudless blue sky. I want to be like those birds, free to go where I wish, free to fly with whoever I choose.

"Honey?" Mum asks worriedly, pressing her soft cool hands against my forehead. "Did you forget that we all planned to go visit Fred and George today? Wouldn't you like to visit Diagon Alley?"

"I'm sorry Mum," I reply automatically, "I'll be ready in a few minutes." She wordlessly nods and leaves the room.

I pull myself out of bed, and begin digging through my drawers for something to wear. My hand brushes against something metal. It's a picture of us, he's wrapping his arms around me and I'm smiling while he rests his head in the curve of my neck. His silky black hair makes my skin tingle, his hands, so perfectly placed on my abdomen making butterflies flutter in my stomach. I remember that day. My picture self is rocking from side to side, while I close my eyes and place my hands over his. His picture self is kissing my neck, my cheek, and than he turns my face to his and kisses me deeply, lovingly. Afterwards, he leans close to my ear, and I can still feel the way his breath tickled the little hairs there, the way his deep voice was so gentle, so tender. "I love you," he whispers.

I bury the picture in my drawer before I start crying. I had to put it away because I spent most of my time staring at it, trying to lose myself in every detail of his embrace, his being. I dress quickly, I'm not hungry as usual, and that worries Mum, but she promises me we'll get some Ice Cream if I get hungry. I'm not a child...why do they treat me like one?

Diagon Alley is so full of life, yet all the liveliness around me only seems to make me withdraw further. A hundred different memories remind me of him, and I just want this weight to be lifted off of my chest. I promised myself that I could try a little harder if only I could hear one single piece of news about him that wasn't being reported in the Daily Prophet. Does he love me anymore? Has be forgotten me?

Fred and George try so hard to be cheery that I can't help but lighten up a little. I think that's why we've been visiting them so much. We really can't afford to keep traveling to Diagon Alley by Flu Powder, but Mum knows that I seem a little better when I'm around them. Today they offer me a free daydream product that will allow me to enter into the specified daydream on the box for thirty minutes exactly. A little embarrassed, I pick a romance daydream. I may seem foolish, but even if it's just a daydream, I want to be with him.

When we arrive home, we find that Dad has returned home from work early. He looks grave as we enter the kitchen. What's the matter Daddy? He's holding a handful of mail in his hand and looking at Mum sadly.

"Ginny, can I speak to Mum for a little bit?" He asks gently.

I leave the kitchen without a fight, rush to my room, and return with an extendable ear. Mum and dad must be really distraught, because they've forgotten to fortify the doors against these things.

"Molly," he says, "read this letter...what do you make of it?"

There are a few moments of silence.

"I don't make anything of it Arthur," she replies, "It is not exact one way or another, and could just be a trick of the enemy."

"Ginny will need to know," he says uncertainly.

"Certainly she will not!" Mum snaps fiercely. "You've seen the way...Arthur we're losing her!"

"But she and--" He protests.

"No! That's my final word!" She replies, "I'm going to burn this, and we'll have no further discussion of this subject. We'll tell her when we have solid evidence one way or another."

"Well, I'm due at a ministry hearing in about ten minutes," he sounds defeated, "I love you dear."

The sounds of him aparating, the scrape of a chair as Mum rises. I have to save that letter! I hear the kitchen stove being turned on. But there's nothing I can do...she's going to burn it and I'll never know what the letter contains. Suddenly, I feel a little like my old self. Let her burn it, I think, I'll find a spell that can reassemble the ashes.

Later on that night I creep into the kitchen. Mum threw away the ashes in the garbage, so I rescue as much as I can. Carefully, I return to my room, remembering to jump the steps I know will creak. Mum has surprisingly good hearing for such a large house, and in these troubled times, well, I wouldn't want to be cursed by her in the middle of the night if she mistook me for an intruder. Dad won't be back until late. Something about another raid on death eaters.

"Reparios Asemblios!" I mutter. I've spread the ashes on my desk. If I got the wand movement correct the ashes should melt, and reform into the letter, or whatever I've managed to rescue of it anyway.

In a moment, the letter does indeed begin to reform, but it looks as though I've missed so rather large chunks. It reads:

_To the Weasley Family,_

_There is both good and bad to report. The good news is that we've found another . It turned out to be a shard of You-Know-Who's very first wand, which might be connected to the of Master Olivander in some way, although we have no solid information yet. We are seeking another , very last one. Details cannot be given, for fear that this letter might fall into 's hands, but we are safe, and we have had good luck so far. We have not seen the ' One' in some time, and have been concerned that something might have to hi. It is in 's best interests not to mention anything just yet, as worries would be unjusti at this time._

Sincere

Hrmne

on

Ode f Phonx

My heart is beating out of my chest. I can get the basic idea of what this letter is about, but it doesn't soothe me in the least. Why didn't they tell me they hadn't heard from him. Why has he written to my family, but not to me? My head is full of images of his warmth, his touch, the words, "I love you," ring over and over in my head and heart.

The hallway light switches on outside my door! In my panic I swipe my hand across the desk; The paper returns to ash and settles on the floor. I dive into bed, switch the light off, and wait. My bedroom door opens a crack, I can hear my mother's gentle breathing as she checks on me.

"Ginny?" She calls softly into the dark. I don't respond.

"Ginny," she repeats, "Sweetie, I just wanted to say that your father and I love you very much. Please don't go away from us Ginny, we love you!" When I don't respond, she sighs and closes the door. I swear that tommrow I will confront them, and if I have to, I will take matters into my own hands.

_"I love you Ginny," he says, as he settles beside me on the bed._

_"I like having you this close," I reply as I lean on his chest. He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead._

_"I'll come back. Your my reason for coming back, I swear it..." He says._

_"Come back..." I whisper._


	2. Chapter 2

When the War is Over: Chapter Two

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it)

For the first time in a long time, I think I slept the whole night through. When I awake, I can tell the difference; I feel rested, I feel as though my soul has purpose again. It was as though he was standing vigil by my bedside all night, watching over me, protecting me, comforting me. I don't bounce down to breakfast, but I don't slink either. The surprise registers on Mum's face when I tell her I feel hungry for once. For the first time, in a long time, I have hope.

Mum sits across from me at the breakfast table and studies me in a motherly fashion.

"Sweetie, it's good to see you've got your appetite back. Your dad and I were so worried about you!"

"Mum-" I put down my fork and push my empty plate away from me. "I need to talk with you about something, and I want you to be honest with me."

"I'll be as honest as I know how," she replies, "but I won't say anything that could be dangerous for you, or for anyone I love."

"Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about," I take a deep breath, and plunge on recklessly, afraid that if I stop, I won't be able to start again, "I know about the letter, and I know Harry's in trouble. I want to know why you thought of keeping it from me. If you are keeping anything else from me, I'd also like to know that as well."

Mum studies her hands for a few minutes, and than, mechanically, she gets up, takes my plate, and begins doing the dishes. I know she's upset, because she normally doesn't do the dishes by hand.

"How do you know about any of that?" She asks quietly, not looking at me.

"Mum, please, I grew up in the same house as Fred and George-- do you really think you threw away all the extendable ears? I'm not a child anymore, I can find spells to do things like putting letters back together."

Glass shatters, mum leans over the sink, her head bowed. The tap water runs on quietly for several minutes.

"Yes-- you are a child!" She breathes, "your my child! Do you think I want you involved in this war! All my children are involve--" She breaks down, sobbing, and I rush forward to hug her tightly. "Bill--all his scars, and Percy-- the minister's puppet, Ron--" I lead her over to a chair and sit her down, but my determination to get answers is not squashed.

"Mom, I know you want to protect me," I say, "but I'm not a child anymore, I'm not! I'm just like you, I want to protect the people I love, help them, be with them!"

"I'm just so scared--!" She buries her face in her hands, and I grip her wrists.

"Mum, please don't cry Mum!" I beg. After a while, her sobs cease, and she sags.

"I've known for a long time, that you weren't a little girl anymore," she says softly, "when I first found out about you and Harry, I knew you were maturing into a beautiful woman, but none-the-less, I didn't want to see my only daughter lost in this war."

"I'm not lost Mum," I whisper, "I'm right here."

"--But," she interjects, perhaps feeling as I did, that if she didn't finish what she wanted to say, she would not have the strength to say it later, "I know I cannot keep you from doing what your heart is telling you is right. If you love him, you should help him."

Mum gathers me into her arms, I begin to cry, for the first time in a year, I feel as though this heavy veil can be lifted. The kitchen door swings open, dad steps in.

"What's going on with my girls?" He asks, seeing us both embracing.

"Arthur," Mum says, as she pulls away from me and wipes her eyes on her apron, "our little girl has just grown up. I think we need to be honest with her after all."

Dad walks across the kitchen and sinks into a chair. I rush to embrace him as well.

"Sweetie, are you sure?" He asks me.

"I need to help him dad! He needs me!"

"All right than," dad says, and takes a deep breath, "well, I assume you already know the contents of the letter we received last night?" I nod, wordlessly, and he goes on, "according to the Order of the Phoenix, which Hermonie and Ron are currently a part of, Harry has not been seen in a while. There is a growing concern that he may have fallen into the hands of the enemy. The order has been working towards obtaining the Hocrux's, and according to the letter, there is just one more to find before Harry can defeat Voldemort for good. The circumstances of Harry's disappearance and his whereabouts are unknown, but the whole order is on full alert."

"What about Master Olivander? What does the Hocrux that was recently found have to do with him?"

"Well, the last piece of the Hocrux found was a shard of Voldemort's first wand. It's likely he could be trying to use Olivander to create a new wand for him. If he can split his soul again, and he puts that piece of his soul into it and than wields that wand, it won't matter weather we find the other Hocrux or not, as long as he keeps the knew one safe. On top of that, having a first rate wand-crafter on his side will certainly boost his fire power."

"I think, perhaps, if you want to best help Harry, you should join Herminoe and Ron," Mum says quietly, "they have been leading the search for him."

"I'll send a letter right now," I announce. "Where do I send it to?"

"The headquarters is still at Grimauld Place," Mum replies. Her eyes are so sad. I'm sorry I've caused you and dad so much pain, but I can't help it, if Harry is in trouble...

"Well, if that's settled," Dad exhales, "Molly dear, is that bacon I smell...?"

Tense days follow as I wait for a letter, or for Ron and Hermione to appear. Mum tells me to be patient, that they might not be able to spare any time to retrieve me right now, but one day, as I'm starting to sink back into my depressed state, Mum's voice calls me urgently from the kitchen. Racing downstairs, I see that she's holding a letter in her hand.

"Open it dear," she hands it to me. With shaky hands, I take the letter and tear it open.

_Dear Mom, Dad, and Ginny,_

_Hermione and I received your letter and we think it would be wicked (Hermion says 'delighted') if Ginny began working for the order. We'll pick her up next Tuesday at midnight. Send us a letter if this is okay. Love to you all!_

_P.S.  
Tell Ginny not to be upset or worried, Harry's the best mate a guy could ever have, and not likely to get himself into anything he can't handle._

_P.P.S _

_Tell Ginny that Hermione agrees with me, and that she says Harry wouldn't like it if Ginny was worrying about him._

_P.P.P.S _

_Mom, try not to cling to Ginny, because if your letting her go, your obviously taking a really big step and I'm proud of you!_

We send our reply, but it feels like ages before Tuesday. Every day I'm terrified that Harry might be suffering badly at the hands of death eaters; I never let myself think of him as possibly being 'dead', because I can't handle that line of thought. But Tuesday night does come at last, and I find myself packed and waiting in the kitchen, my muscles tense, my stomach churning. This is it, I think, I'm finally going to be able to help Harry. For a moment I'm lost in my thoughts of him racing out to meet me, gathering me into his arms, twirling me around, and kissing me as though we'll never kiss again.

A knock at the door breaks my thoughts, and Mum hurries over and peers out through the spy-hole. I've often wondered why she checks like that, and Fred and George have agreed that death eaters wouldn't knock on the door before attacking. When she's satisfied that it's only Ron and Hermione, she lets them in. There is a flurry of hugs, Mum exclaims how much Ron has grown, and how attractive Hermione has become. Than she notices something that makes her break into happy tears. Pushing my way through Mum and dad, I see a beautiful ring, glittering on Hermione's hand. With a squeal of delight I launch myself at Hermione!

"You guys are getting married!" I laugh, hugging her fiercly.

"Yes, Ron proposed just a week ago," Hermione replies, blushing, "We wanted to wait until we could see you, before breaking the news."

"Congratulations son!" Dad claps him on the back and Ron smiles sheepishly. Than they notice me, and Ron steps forward, embracing me tenderly.

"Don't worry Gin," he says, "we're gonna find him, I promise." Unbidden, a few tears fall out of the corners of my eyes. Hermione is there to wipe them away.

"Yes Ginny, don't cry, we're going to find Harry, and than we're going to help him beat Voldemort once and for all. And than you can help me plan my wedding!" I have to laugh through my tears, the image of Hermione in a beautiful white gown...Ron looking uncomfortable in a nice tuxedo...

"Well, are you ready to go Gin," Ron asks me, running a hand through his hair.

"Take care sweetie," Mum whispers and holds me tight, "please come back and visit us soon. This will always be your home..."

"We love you," Dad mummers, embracing Mum and I. Than I am leaving the warmth and light of the kitchen, my things are secured to a broomstick, and we are flying away into the night. I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know that I love him, and I'm going to find him, no matter what...


	3. Chapter 3

When the War is Over: Chapter Three

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it)

It's about three o'clock in the morning when we alight gently in the abandoned square in front of headquarters. My hands are frozen, my teeth are chattering, my legs feel stiff enough to shatter beneath my weight. I should have remembered to dress more warmly, as the nights are still pretty cold this time of year. Hermione ushers us to the front door. her black robes billowing out behind her as she takes long strides; She knocks three times on the ancient metal doors and waits. A slit in the door the length of my index finger slides open, a grotesque, red-rimmed, veiny eye glares out at us.

"Password?" A muffled voice asks sharply from within.

"Frog Spawn," Hermione confirms. The eye disappears and the door slides shut, I can hear the sounds of a dozen locks being undone on the other side of the door.

"We have passwords now, for our protection," Hermione explains, helping me to gather my things as we shuffle into the dark entranceway. "They change every hour on the hour, usually thought up by the person on duty, and no sooner than about ten minutes beforehand."

"How do I know what the password's changed to if I'm out when it changes?" I ask, feeling a little stupid.

"You get one of these," Ron replies, dropping something into my hand. It's a smooth silver coin, but it looks ordinary, small enough to slip into my pocket. "See the little pictures around the rim?" Ron points out, and I examine the coin to, indeed, see small shapes around the rim, "Each picture represents a different password, and they light up according to what the password currently is. Make sure to learn them all."

"What if the enemy gets a hold of this coin," I ask, trying not to think about falling into the hands of the death eaters.

"Well, if your ever in danger, you just squeeze your coin, and certain peoples' coins's that are linked to yours will turn red, alerting them to the fact that one of their team members is in danger. Everyone is linked to a certain group, that way, if one group is jeopardized, the entire order is not itself jeopardized. I think you can probably guess, but your coin has been linked to your family's, all your brothers, and us." Hermione looks very pleased with herself, lost in an explanation of the one thing in the world she honors about all else...rules.

"That's a good system," I admit, "who thought of it?"

"Harry," Ron and Hermione reply together. There is an awkward moment of silence between the three of us, and than Mad-Eyed Moody shuffles up.

"Bout time you showed up with the new arrival!" He grunts, "Remus and I were starting to get nervous."

"Sorry," Ron mutters, breaking the silence, "we doubled back a couple times just for saftey's sake. Well, what do you say we get Gin settled in, and find something to eat?" Both Hermione and I agree at once.

Grimauld place has changed a lot since I was last here. The corridors are still drafty, the rooms drab, but everything is clean and well organized. I feel a strange sense of peace in this place. This is the place I spent the summer with him, just before he admitted his feelings to me in front of the whole common room. I can still feel the heat of my body as he suddenly gathered me into his arms, the way his cheeks colored red after he'd kissed me. I can still see my brother's shocked face, feel the way I kissed him back, with all my heart...

There is a knock on my door while I'm sitting on the floor, surrounded by all my unpacked things. Somehow I found the courage to pack that picture of us, and now it's sitting on top of an antique dresser across from the my bed. When I wake up in the morning, it will be the first thing I see, a reminder of my promise to find him.

"Do you need some help unpacking?" Hermione walks in, carrying a stack of clean, folded clothes; I can just make out her bushy hair behind them. I only mummer a reply, lost in organizing things.

"He looks so happy in that picture," Hermione's voice is dreamy. I'm momentarily caught off guard, snagged on the one moment I wasn't thinking about him. I look up, and she's staring at the picture of us. She shakes her head, and bends down next to me.

"C'mon, you can finish unpacking later, let's get down to the kitchen and see if there is anything to report!"

The kitchen hasn't changed much. Mum sends care packages all the time, so there is plenty of good food to eat; Soon, I'm full, and I lean back in my chair contentedly. Moody glances around, and when he sees that we are, for the most part, finished, he stands up. Crookshanks dashes between his legs, nearly toppling him, and he snaps a curse before moving to stand at the head of the table. For the first time in a long time, I almost feeling like laughing, but I suppress my giggles, ready to get down to business.

"Whenever your ready Moody," Lupin gestures. Moody utters something like, 'accio today's reports', and a full stack of papers appear on the table in front of him.

"First oder of business," Moody begins briskly, "we've got a new member, the Weasley's youngest is finally joining the ranks. Second, we got a report today that a teacher at Hogwart's went missing."

"--Which one!" Hermione interjects, suddenly distressed, and I understand why. Living among the teachers at Hogwarts for so many years has made many of them dear to us, almost like family members we've come to rely on for support and comfort.

"Trelawney," Moody replies. I never thought Hermione could become distressed over a teacher she obviously hated so much in her time at Hogwarts, but she does. She claps her hands to her mouth and gasps. Even Ron sits forward intently.

"What would they want with Trelawney? How did they even get her! Hogwarts is still safe isn't it?"

"As to how they got her," Moody replies, "we have no idea. She might have become lost in one of her trances, and wandered outside the safety of the castle, evading our guards somehow. We have an idea that they might want her because of something to do with the prophecy surrounding Potter; Hogwarts is far safer than other places right now, but even it can, and has, been penetrated by spies of the enemy."

"I think," said Lupin, standing up, "that perhaps right now we should try to concentrate on finding out where they might have taken her."

"Agreed," Hermione responds, "but than, what about Master Olivander? Are we proponing the search for him temporarily? Who will be taking over the search for the Hocrux's?"

"Harry's still our main concern," Ron jumps in, "Even if we're balancing Olivander, Trelawney, and the last Hocrux's, I'm not giving up the search for my bestmate."

"Same here," I reply meekly. Moody and Remus study us intently.

"You realize that you are choosing to follow a path that might very well lead you to find him--" but he doesn't finish, because Hermione cuts him off.

"We can't defeat You-Know-Who without him," she argues, glancing at me worriedly. She shouldn't worry, mere words would never make me believe him dead; They'd have to show me his unmoving body to make me believe. "I think we should continue the search for Olivander, because wherever they've taken him is probably where they're going to take her, which in turns means that the both of them might lead us right to Harry. We can continue to split our resources between finding them, and finding the last Hocruxes."

"Hermione," Remus smiles, pleased with her logic, "Sirius was right when he said you really are the brightest witch of your age. Now, where are you planning to start looking for Olivander?"

"I thought we'd go back to his store and dig around for some clues."

"We'll arrange for a group to go with you," Moody says. "You'll leave in three days, that should be enough time to gather them."

We are about to leave the kitchen when Lupin pulls me aside and asks for me to stay behind a moment. I'm confused, did I do something wrong? The others shrug, and Moody herds them out of the room.

"I've some things to give you," he says gently, looking me directly in the eyes. I've always liked Professor Lupin, his eyes are gentle, his manner humble and kind, and most of all, he was a friend to Harry when Harry was in need. He protected him, mentored him, restored a little bit of faith in him. He hands me one of our secret coins, it feels smooth, cold to the touch.

"What--?" I begin, but he silences me.

"It was his coin. Hedwig brought it to us just before we realized he was missing; We have no idea where he was at the time, off on buisness of his own, or where she came from, but she was nearly dead when she dropped on the doorstep. If you'd like, you can see her later, she's still recovering."

"I'd like that very much," I reply, determined to care for Hedwig until he comes back. I take a few steps out of the kitchen.

"He loves you very much," Lupin calls out. I'm warmed by the fact that he says it in present tense. He believes like I do that Harry is very much alive. "He spoke of you often, in confidence to those he trusted the most."

"I know," I can smile a little as I clutch his coin to my breast. It's just another little piece of him that I'll treasure until I can see him again. "Goodnight," I say.


	4. Chapter 4

When the War is Over: Chapter Four

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it)

Glass crunches underneath my feet as I step into what used to be Master Olivander's wand shop. I remember this place, faintly, from my memories; I haven't been in here since I got my own wand years ago. Shelves are overturned, boxes are lying everywhere, the cash register's drawer is open. The front display windows are boarded up, but thin strips of light find their way through the boards, illuminating tiny motes of dust as they dance before my eyes.

"It's eerie, isn't it?" Hermione says from beside me. There are twelve of us here, besides Ron, Hermione, and myself, although I do not know most of their names. Tonks wanted to join us, but a pregnancy of six months prevented her from going, on Lupin's orders. She's been doing limited amounts of work inside the ministry, helping the order in small ways, and she and Lupin are joyfully looking forward to their first child, a boy, late in the summer. Tonks showed up late last night, and she told me the good news. She and Lupin were married in the summer; They are not concerned with their child being a werewolf. I told Tonks I wanted to be there when she had the baby; She smiled and told me she'd be overjoyed if I could. It makes me think of my own life. What would it be like to be married to Harry? Have a family with him? Sometimes it feels like life is so short...

Bill steps up beside me and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder; He squeezes, giving me a rough smile, and moves towards the back of the store. Bill's scars are not as bad as they once were, although if he meets anyone now-a-days who didn't know him before, they would probably never be able to call him handsome. He and Fleur were married just before Harry left, they've had some rough times...but they're pulling through; They have a beautiful one year old daughter, Elizabeth, who my Mum spoils rotten. My mind wanders back to that day...

_"After the wedding, I'm leaving..." he says, leaning against the trunk of a tree, crossing his arms and trying to appear collected. "I hope you understand..."_

_"I don't understand!" I shout at him, "I don't understand at all!" We so rarely fight, that the sharpness of my own voice surprises me; A tone tinged with bitter and hurtful feelings of betrayal._

_"We've been over this already Gin," he scrubs a hand through messy hair and closes his eyes for a minute, collecting his thoughts, "I'm not willing to put your life on the line, not for anything! Stay here, where you'll be safe...how do you think I'd feel if something happened to you?"_

_"I don't know, how would you feel?" I snap, regretting the words instantly. His eyes widen, and I spin around and drop to the grass, wanting him to be here with me, yet at the same time, wanting him to be as far away as possible._

_"You don't mean that," he breathes, suddenly pressing against my back, "your angry with me, and you have every right to feel so...but, I want you to be my reason for returning. I want you to be my home. Can't you understand that?" All the anger drains from my body as he runs his hands through my hair, kissing the back of my neck lovingly. I lean into his warmth, enjoying the way his arms wrap around my stomach, the way we entwine our hands, the gentle little song he sings, ever so nervously, into my ear._

_"Will I see you after the wedding?" I ask._

_"Someday Gin, if this war is ever over...someday, if I survive...I want to come back to you, and if your not taken by anyone else...I want to marry you." I shift around in astonishment; His bright green eyes are fixed on me, he looks a little nervous._

_"Someday?" I ask in a small voice, feeling as though 'someday' is a little to vague._

_"Someday," he replies._

_"Yes!" I suddenly shout, and he falls overbackwards in astonishment; I lay on top of him and we entwine hands again and share a kiss; Eventually he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer, lifting his head to deepen the kiss while I cradle it gently on my forearms._

"--_Is something_!" Someone is saying. My mind returns to the present, and I notice that Hermione and Ron are waving their hands in front of my face.

"Sorry guys," I shake my head in an attempt to clear it, "I just spaced out for a little bit. Did we find something?"

"Not yet," Hermione replies, "but we're gonna start going through boxes now. All the wands that can be saved are gonna be returned to headquarters; Hopefully we can use them at a later date, but if not, at least the enemy won't be able to get their hands on them."

"Ginny, start with the boxes in the back of the store," Ron points, already ripping the lids off boxes. Hermione and I cringe at his lack of delicacy; Didn't handling the wrong wand cause sparks and make things explode when we tried them out? I leave Hermione to deal with my brother, and head to the back of the store. Is it just me, or can I hear the faintest sound of bells ringing in the musty apmosphere? _It is very curious Mr. Potter, that you should have been destined for this wand, when it's brother gave you back that scar!...The wand chooses the wizard Mr. Potter, it's not always clear why... _I shake my head again, to clear it of these strange voices, and begin taking the lids off of some boxes.

It's quite a while, but finally I rescue all the usable wands; I than turn my attention to a crowded antique desk with a smashed brass lamp lying on top of it; The desk is crammed with odds and ends, old inventory sheets, spell books, newspaper clippings...I force one of the drawers open, and inside I find an emerald green, leather bound book, it's cover cracked, the pages faded and falling out. Wonderingly, I thumb through it, and find tiny cramped handwriting on the stained pages. It says:

_Two were fated, two did come, two and two were one. What was lost was reclaimed, what was fated was reborn, what was done could not be undone, and so the two were one. Be wary all ye who dare attempt, the two are meant to be: Two and two were one, and one more than, was three._

_I cannot attempt to decrypt this message, I heard it while I was selling Professor Trelawney a new wand earlier in the month, but I believe it is another prophecy, concerning the Potter boy. Now that the enemy knows I have heard,I will attempt to flee---I only hope whoever finds this is both pure of heart and good of cause as I may never return---_

The last words were dashed onto the page in a hurried scrawl. I rush out to show the others what I've found.

"What do you make of it?" Ron asks, scratching his head.

"We should take it back to headquarters before we try to figure out what it means. Anyway, I think we've found all there is to find here, and it's getting late, shall we head back?" Bill says.

Everyone agrees; I'm not sad to leave this place,the air is far to heavy, full of the deep, sad, lonely memories. I cheer myself up by thinking: I'm one step closer, one step closer to finding him. I promise myself that I will uncover the mystery of this second prophecy, and I willuse it to save him...even if it means my life!


	5. Chapter 5

**When the War is Over: Chapter Five**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it.)

I enter the dim room, and let my eyes adjust. We keep a small owlery, for use by the order, and I've come to visit Hedwig today. In a plastic bag I carry some fresh dead mice. There is a rustling sound, and many pairs of haunting yellow eyes focus on me all at once.

"Hedwig?" I call out in the gloom. There is a rustle, a faint hoot; I see her perched on an old coat rack in the back of the room. She shuffles around and considers me, before stretching her wings and flapping them lazily in an apathetic gesture of acceptance. I notice that one of her wings is still braced, she looks as though she's lost a few feathers, but she is happy to see me none-the-less, and more than grateful to accept the dead mice I feed her.

"I wish you could tell me where you've been," I speak to her, knowing she won't understand, but feeling comforted all the same. She blinks her yellow eyes, one after the other at me, and nibbles my fingers to let me know she wants more mice. "I haven't got anymore!" I laugh, and she looks offended; She is not the only one. I may have raised my voice a little too loud because the other pairs of eyes are glaring at me also. "I promise I'll bring more next time," I stroke her tiny head with my index finger and she seems soothed.

The door opens, and Ron walks in. He gives Hedwig a few strokes too, and than he turns to me.

"We're gathering in the kitchen," he says. I nod, and we leave the room together.

In the kitchen, Master Olivander's book is lying open, the page about the second prophecy is book-marked.

"Did we get anything else out of the book?" I ask, taking a seat.

"Some of the other entries are interesting," Lupin says, taking the seat across from me, "apparently, Master Olivander writes that at first he was simply approached by the enemy because of his wand-crafting skills. He was threatened constantly, badgered, had his store broken into and vandalized more than once, but he never gave in. He only became of truly great interest to them when he had the unfortunate luck to hear Trelawney's second prophecy. Naturally, You-Know-Who's spies found out; I think it's safe to assume, from his last entry, that they finally abducted him.

"So that puts us back at square one," Hermione says sadly, taking the seat next to me.

"Not exactly," Mad-Eye says as he thumps into the room, "You found something else, didn't you Remus?"

"Yes," Lupin muses, "there was a reference to a client of Olivander's, some years ago. Mrs. Catherine Jones was mentioned as being one of his most respected clients, all of her family has done business solely with him. I believed that she may be able to tell us more of what Olivander has been up to, but, unfortunatly, she's quite mad."

"Mad?" I ask.

"Yes, I checked up on her, and apparently, during the last war against You-Know-Who she was on Dumbledore's side. Poor thing, she was caught by the Death Eaters and tortured for many months; She has been committed to the mental ward of St. Mungo's ever since they recovered her, huddling in the dark and mumbling about 'master'. I'm afraid her family doesn't really want to be burdened with her, so they rarely visit."

"But _that's awful_!" I shout, "_Just terrible_! How could anyone be so cruel!"

"Am I to take it you'd still like to speak with her?" Lupin eyes me carefully.

"If that would be alright," I reply sheepishly.

"Well, I'm not comfortable sending you alone, so Hermione and Ron will have to go with you. You'll leave at once."

St. Mungo's is quiet; I'm reminded of the last time I visited here, when Harry saved my father from almost certain death, it was the first time I really understood how the suffering of others touched him. I wanted to be a shield against such pain, but I was useless... A few patients in the mental ward have escaped their beds, and they wander in the hallways, alone, lonely. The nurse leads us to a room marked, 'Number 311', and leaves us to our business, only commenting that visiting hours will be over in about an hour before she shuts the door behind us.

A frail looking woman about my Mum's age huddles in the corner of her bed, dark curls falling over her shoulders, clutching her arms to her chest and staring into space. I drag a chair up in front of her and sit down; Hermione and Ron stand on either side of me.

"Mrs. Jones?" I say softly, not wanting to startle her, "Mrs. Jones, my name is Ginny, and I'd like to talk with you a little bit, if you don't mind."

The woman turns her blank eyes on me, and smiles pleasantly.

"_Red hair_," she says gently, reaching her handout for a moment before dropping it lifelessly on the bedspread, "_I used to know a girl with red hair---she was so pretty---always brushing it softly before she went to bed---doing it up before she went out_."

"That's very nice--" I say, trying to rein in the conversation, but she goes on.

"_Yes---Lilly was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen_."

My mind freezes for a minute. Did she say Lilly? Not..._Harry's mother_?

"_Of course---all the girl's were jealous of her," Mrs. Jones rambles on, "but not me---no---I liked my hair dark---just like that James, he was so dreamy---He and Lilly made such a perfect match!---"_ Tears suddenly well up in her eyes, and I realize she's going to break down.

"Tell me more about Lilly," I urge, and it seems to console her.

"_Lilly was so pretty_---" She mumbles, lying down on the bed now and closing her eyes, "-----_so pretty_---_should have_-----_left them_----_alone_-----"

"Who should have left them alone?" I urge, knowing that she's falling asleep fast

"----_Dumbledore_----_should have_----" She seems to be sleeping now, and we leave the room.

"What do you think Dumbledore had to do with Harry's parents?" Ron asks as we check out of St. Mungo's.

"I don't know..." Hermione replies, her brows furrowed.

_Whatever it is, it looks like another piece of the puzzle that we'll have to work out. I'd always trusted Dumbledore; Everyone had always trusted Dumbledore, but could he have had secrets?...Could he have done something in the past that might be affecting the way things are going now...? I know he's dead, and I know his death is whatsent Harry on this suicidal crusade against Voldemort, but the truth still needs to be uncovered. Just wait, I think, just be patient a little longer, I'm coming for you..._


	6. Chapter 6

When the War is Over: Chapter Six

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it).

_"How is the subject fairing?" A voice rasps from the shadows. I know that voice...yet, I cannot place it. Everything seems blanketed in darkness, my body feels heavy, my mind wanders in a fog-like state. Who am I? Even the voice in my thoughts sounds strange. Who am I...?_

_"Coming along splendidly--" An arrogant-voice replies, somewhere nearby, "perhaps we should increase the dosage?"_

_"My faithful servant---" The name is lost to my ears, "are you trying to kill him? I wouldn't blame you, except that you swore yourself to my service, and I need him alive at any rate."_

_"Hee-hee," wheezes another voice, "what about the others?"_

_"Their purposes are nearly served, all that is left is to extract that---" Again, my hearing fails me, "where is -----?"_

_"----attending to a matter at Azkaban."_

_"See that I am alerted when ----- arrives." The voices fade, but the rasping voice says something at the last moment. "And Malfoy, you may increase the dosage...but don't kill him, hmm?" Searing pain rips through my body, blotting out consciousness. I want to die..._

I jerk from sleep in a cold sweat, one name, Malfoy, ringing clearly in my mind. Why did I dream that? What does it mean? _A matter at Azkaban_? I throw off my covers and race from the room, rocketing through the corridors and finally bursting into my brother's room!

For a few moments, there is a shocked silence; I've just walked in on my brother and Hermione in bed together, _naked_...

"Gin---Gi---" Ron sputters, pulling the covers up to his chin. "GINNY!"

"I'm sorry-- Really sorry!" I whirl around and rush from the room. In the hallway, I allow myself to feel the pulsing heat in my face. A few moments later, Hermione opens the door and ushers me back in. She's now wearing a blue bathrobe, securely wrapped around her body; Ron is loosely dressed in pajama pants and a ragged t-shirt.

"OK--" he breathes, "now, what exactly was so important that you had to---"

"A dream!" I interrupt, feeling stupid and childish all at once, "I think I had a dream about what the enemy is going to do next!"

"Are you sure?" Hermione puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me over to the bed. I sit down, and recount everything I can remember about the dream. When I am finished, Ron and Hermione are staring at me.

"And so," I blurt out, "I think we need to--to go to Azkaban and stop them!"

"Oh Ginny," Hermione says comfortingly, "do you know how difficult it'll be? I mean, we're not exactly the right type to blend in...and, well, what if it was only a dream?"

"It wasn't!" I'm shouting now, throwing a tantrum like a little girl, but I don't care, "I know it was real! I know what the enemy is planning next!"

"OK Ginny," Ron tries to sort it all out, "say we humor you and go there, what exactly are we looking for?" I think for a moment, and than it hits me!

"Lucius Malfoy! Malfoy was in my dream, and someone else was on their way to Azkaban on some 'buisness', what else could it be?...They're planning to break Lucius Malfoy out of jail!" Hermione and Ron share a glance and stand up.

"Well, if your right...we're gonna need some help," Ron replies. We get to work.

Hours later, we're on our way to Azkaban; Our plan is to arm ourselves with Patronus charms, get to Lucius Malfoy, and extract him before the enemy can reclaim him.

Azkaban is a great island prison, surrounded by the ocean, and battered constantly with gale-force winds; This is probably the reason why only one man has ever escaped from there, and now he's dead. There is no chance of flying to Azkaban, the howling winds would scatter us, we would be lost to the ocean; We apparate to the edge of the island, knowing our presence will draw the Dementor's attention at once. Within moments, we are surrounded, patronus shields go up, and we march towards the prison; If we stay within the protective shield of the patronus, the Dementors cannot touch us, but it takes great energy to keep the shield up, so we must move quickly.

When the war really took off, the Dementors sided with no one; In the end, they retreated to Azkaban, and kept it's prisoners mostly to feed off of. Dementors love to feed off the life-forces of others, to suck all the happiness out of them, and although they rarely interfere with either side, there have sometimes been sightings linked with disappearance of people, hence, many people are staying inside and bolting their doors after sunset.

Azkaban is built primarily to torture it's prisoners, with the most ruthless and mad being locked away deep in the underground dungeons where they never see the light of day again. A source informed us that Lucius is on the second level of the underground dungeons, so that is where we head. The castle is empty, after the uprising of the dementors, no one stuck around to try and bring about order; No one generally stayed here anyway, even when Azkaban was in use, after all, who would want to work with dementors everyday?

There are long flights of stairs that descend into the moldy dankness of the prison, the air is sharp and cold, salt from the ocean is thick with every breath. It seems like hours, but we reach the first level; Just as we exit the stairwell something electric barely misses my head, the wall next to me explodes. My eardrums ring, I can't see straight, I'm on the floor and it feels slick and slimy. Distant shouts, I see bright streaks of light being passed back and forth, the words of the three forbidden curses being shouted so carelessly.

"Ginny get up!" Ron is kneeling beside me while Hermione provides us with cover fire, "c'mon, we've gotta get you out of here!"

"No!" I shout, coming to my senses, "no, I'm gonna fight too!"

"Ginny--" Ron begins to protest, but I cut him off.

"I'm a member of the order! Your not going to stop me!" He grudgingly agrees, muttering something about how Mum'll kill him if anything happens to me.

Hermione dodges a bright bolt of lightning and I fling my wand out and try a bat-boggey hex on the nearest death eater. Direct him, his face suddenly begins flapping; He flings his wand down and runs around in circles, panicking. I disarm another death eater who is aiming at me and just muttering the words 'Avara Kadavara!', charging the last death eater standing, I somehow manage to break his wand with the force of my blow, he staggers up and attempts to flee, only to be petrified by Lupin as he reaches the stairwell.

The silence is sudden, I lower my wand, convinced they're all gone. Sudden sharp pain rips through my body, I stagger backwards, clutching my side; Taking my hand away I see bright red blood staining my hands. Lupin disarms Lucius and dives for him, wrestling him to the ground before he can reclaim his wand. Lucius must have been hiding in the shadows...how careless of me...my vision grows dark, I fall to the floor...my patronus charm goes out, and I can feel the dementors closing in...


	7. Chapter 7

**When the War is Over: Chapter Seven**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it).

_"Ginny..." A voice beaks through the darkness. "You need to wake up...you can't sleep anymore--Ginny!" My eyes refuse to open, my body feels paralyzed; I don't want to wake up, but the voice goes on. "You can't leave them yet...there's still things to live for..."_

My eyes flutter open; Harsh florescent lighting illuminates a stark white ceiling. I feel drained, I can only stare at the ceiling and think of what must have happened after I collapsed. Who woke me up? Who called out my name? Ron is sitting on a chair by my bedside, with his head between his hands; He looks up as I stir under the itchy wool blankets.

"Ginny!" He cries as he flings himself off the bed and embraces me. I embrace him back, weakly, and than he pulls away and stares at me. "Don't ever do that again! Do you know what'll happen to me if Mum finds out!"

"I already know," Mum says as she steps into the room. Her face is a thunderhead, her voice is shrill, her cheeks are flushed. Dad shuffles in behind her, looking defeated. I know I'm in for a fight.

"HOW COULD YOU---" She sputters at Ron, and Ron begins to tremble, "COULD HAVE KILLED HER!----LETTING HER GO ON A MISSON LIKE THAT!---NEARLY KILLED BY DEMENTORS!---YOUR SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HER!"

"But Mum--" Ron tries to explain, but she pushes his flimsy words aside.

"DON'T 'BUT MUM' ME!---HOW COULD THE ORDER LET HER GO---HAVE HARSH WORDS WITH---TAKING HER HOME AS SOON AS WE CAN!---"

The last words freeze my heart. Go home? After all I've accomplished?..._not a chance_. Mum is still berating Ron, my own voice sounds small.

"Mum...I'm not going home," a deadly silence falls upon the room. Mum turns to me, her eyes livid.

"You most certainly are!---" I cut her off.

"No, I'm not," I take a deep breath, trying to explain myself, "I am not coming home because the war is going to continue, weather I am home or not. I need to be a part of this, I need to be doing something to help him, even if it's only small things..."

"_Oh Ginny_," Dad breathes, speaking for the first time, "I know you want to be doing something to help him...but how do you think he'd feel if something happened to you?"

_"What if I don't care if it's dangerous to be with you?" _

_"How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral"  
"I don't care"  
"But I **do**! Please Ginny---"_

Why did I suddenly remember our argument? I feel guilt bubbling up inside of me, my resolve wavers.

_"I want you to be my home...my reason for returning!"_

Is is right? Is what I'm doing right? What would he do if it was me? He'd look for me, fight for me, even die for me if he had to...and he'd do it for love, _our love_.

"Dad," my voice is firm, unwavering, "If I were in danger, I know exactly what he'd do. I will not do any less for him."

"But _sweetheart_-"

"No Mum!" I cut her off, "I'm not returning and that's final." Hermione steps into the room, and surveys the scene. Ron is pale, trembling, Mum is just coming off of her livid state, and Dad looks torn between us, afraid to agree with either woman.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Hermione says, "Ron, we're needed at headquarters; Lucius has come around, and we're going to question him. I start to rise, but Mum is at my side in the instant, firmly pushing me back into bed.

"I may not be able to stop you from being involved in this war," she says as she fluffs my pillow, "but I can at least ensure that you don't leave the hospital before your fully recovered."

I'd like to argue, but a nurse has suddenly appeared, inserting something into my IV tube; My eyes grow heavy, and everything blurs to darkness.

I'm released from the hospital a week later, with nothing more than a scar and some extreme soreness. I have to battle with Lupin and Mad-eye, but finally they allow me the chance to question Lucius, albeit, with Ron and Hermione stationed outside, and the door open so that they can hear everything that goes on.

_The room is used for storage, the grimy windows are high on the walls, weak light filters through them in the late afternoon. There are stacks of old paintings lying on rotting tables, ancient, termite eaten wardrobes, and piles of antiques. Lucius is triple-tied to a chair, with barely enough leverage to keep the circulation in his arms and legs. His oily blonde hair is matted, dirty, and his face is one that looks to have taken a severe beating recently._

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," I say kindly, wanting to catch him off guard. He spits on the ground before my feet, and to prove I'm not affected, I step right on top of it. "That wasn't very kind to do to someone who has come to treat those bruises."

"Keep your treatments to yourself girl," he snaps, looking away, "I'll not talk, as I'm sure your friends have already informed you.

"Oh I'm perfectly fine with not talking," I reply genially, setting down a bottle antiseptic and some cotton balls, "but you might be more inclined to talk once your wounds have been treated, right?"

"As I said, I'll not talk. Can you not listen?"

"Don't you care about what happened to the people who tried to break you out?" I bait him, suddenly deciding to gamble, "Don't you even care about your ownson?"

"My son is none of your concern!" He retorts.

"Oh but he's defiantly our concern, certainly, since we caught him, he has been quite useful."

Mr. Malfoy sneers at me, "I'll not fall for that trick. Your bluffing!"

"Perhaps," I agree, "but if you don't wish to listen..." I start to pick up the bottle of antiseptic, but Mr. Malfoy's voice halts me, his face looks less sure than before.

"_What_---would I have to do to gain information concerning my..._son_?"

"Well, first, if you don't mind, I'd like to treat those wounds, than, I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me why they've taken Master Olivander and Professor Trelawney." He studies me for a moment, and than nods curtly. Several moments later, his face is looking shiny, but the swelling seems to be fading.

"As to--_Olivander_," Mr. Malfoy's face twists in disgust, "I only know that he was the unlucky recipient of Trelawney's second prophecy. Isn't it obvious, my master wanted them so he could extract the prophecy? He is not about to make the same mistake twice."

"Thank you,_ now_," I step closer to him, staring him directly in the eyes, "if you don't mind...I'd like to know why this second prophecy concerns Harry Potter, the 'chosen one', and what exactly the prophecy entails."

"_I don't know_!" Mr. Malfoy lies, staring coldly back at me, "had I known, would I be alive to tell you today?"

"Well-- if you don't want to know about Malf--"

"--_Isn't it obvious_," Mr. Malfoy changes his story suddenly, distress in his eyes, "This...second prophecy, isn't just about the boy...it's about two others. The '_three_' are needed to fulfill it. Now I'm nose to nose with him, his breath is hot and sour on my face.

"And _who_ would the two others be?" I demand.

"_Do you know nothing girl_," his voice is barely a condescending whisper, "_It's obviously you_...you, and one other..."


	8. Chapter 8

When the War is Over: Chapter Eight

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it)

Mr. Malfoy waits expectantly for me to say something, but I find the words trapped in my throat. Is he bluffing? What would the second prophecy have to do with me?

"_My son_?" He aks hesitantly. Wordlessly, I nod; Hermione and Ron are at my side the moment I leave the room.

"You shouldn't listen to a word he says!" Hermione lectures me, her words seem to rebound off me, I don't really understand them.

"You shouldn't have offered him Malfoy," Ron adds.

"We're the good guys," I can speak again, "we have to hold to our end of the bargain."

Further along the corridor, we come to a room much like the one Mr. Malfoy is confined in. Inside is a younger version of Mr. Malfoy, strapped to his chair in the same way. Unlike his father, however, he doesn't sneer at us, but regards us with a cold fear in his eyes.

"I--I told you!" He sputters, as Ron draws near him, cracking his knuckles menacingly, "I don't know anything!"

"I find that hard to believe," I retort, "because your father recently became a resident here, and he's had some very interesting things to say."

"Your lying!" He shouts, but Ron holds him down and Hermione releases his bonds with a tap of her wand.

"No, we aren't," I reply, forcing him in front of me and jabbing my wand into his back; Hermione is in front of me, leading the way, and Ron guards. "We're going to take you to him, and you two can visit for a while."

We acquired Malfoy by chance; After we left Azkaban, and I was safely transported to St. Mungo's, the rest of the group returned to headquarters to find him snooping around. It wasn't hard to catch him. I used to think Malfoy was cold and ruthless, but, in the years since, I've learned that he was forced into service for Voldemort by his parents, and that, deep down, he fears his master and wishes he could be free. That is not to say that Malfoy would join our side willingly, but, it reveals that his inner feelings are at least more towards the good side of things. I used hated Malfoy for the insults he slung at us, for the way he made Harry's life a living hell sometimes, but, in the end, he proved that he was above the ability to kill in cold-blood; It was not him that killed Dumbledore after all, but Professor Snape.

I shove Malfoy into the room, and his eyes fall at once upon his father. They share a cold moment of regard for one another, and than Mr. Malfoy speaks to us.

"I see that the order is still foolishly holding to the ends of their bargains," he says, which I take as a sign of his gratitude.

"What did you tell them?" Malfoy hisses.

"Only enough to be able to confirm that you were alive, and indeed, in good health."

"No thanks to you! What do you think they'll do with the information you've given them! They'll use it to plan an attack against the master!"

"I have given them no information with which they could use to _'plan an attack'_, and I think you should remember well that our master could easily destroy them if such an '_attack' _were executed." Malfoy whirls around, there is a stung look on his face.

"_I'm done_-- I want to go back to my room," he spats in disgust.

"_Already_?" I probe him innocently, knowing it will infuriate him, "but I was enjoying the family reunion! Well, if your sure--"

Downstairs, in the kitchen, we plan our next move.

"I think we should go to Hogwarts and follow up on that lead from Catherine Jones," Ron suggests, and Hermione agrees, "At the most, it might give us more insight into the relationship between Harry's parents and Dumbledore."

"What about the second prophecy?" Hermione bites her lip, "who's to say Mr. Malfoy wasn't lying though his teeth?"

"_I_ don't think he's lying," I reply.

"Well, for the sake of common sense, " Lupin intercedes, glimpsing a rising battle between us, "for now let's assume that he _is_ lying. Catherine Jones should be our focus right now. We can worry about the second prophecy in a bit."

I slump back in my chair and cross my arms, defeated. Lupin, noticing this, smiles.

"Besides, if you go to Hogwarts, you can visit with Hagrid for a while; He's been dying to see you."

_Hogwarts castle looms before us on the horizon, a gray figure against a perfect blue sky. The lake surrounding it glistens in the sun, and the forbidden forest's trees sway and rustle restlessly on the wind. We have to alight on the grounds before the castle entrance; Now-a-days, all visitors are checked before they can even enter the grounds. The old caretaker Filtch seems pleased with his new job, able to frisk visitors at his leisure with both wand and hands, confiscate whatever he feels is banned from the school, and generally rattle off the school rules._

I tolerate the proceedings only because I know I'll be seeing Hagrid soon; Another link to the one I love. Hagrid was always there for Harry, always protecting him and standing up for him, and for that, I owe him so much. On top of that, Hagrid isn't a bad cook, and, because he's a giant, and cooks giant portions, I know I'll be eating well. Filtch eyes me as he finishes frisking Ron.

"Your coming back? There's nothing to see here, not since Dumbledore died, and Harry Potter went away..." he sounds sad, forlorn.

Hagrid is growing pumpkins again, his vegetable patch is always so well tended for. As we approach his cabin, I can spy, just beyond the shadows of the edge of the forbidden forest, many figures watching us.

"Are we being watched?" I want to confirm my feelings.

"Yeah," Ron agrees, "from the forbidden forest right?"

"Oh please you two, grow up!" Hermione lectures us, but I think she must have felt the eyes on her too.

We knock on the cabin door, and an agitated, muffled voice from within cries out, _'give me a minute will ya!'_. The sound of scratching and whining on the other side of the door, along with several sharp barks, brings another response, _'Fang! Shut up yer great lump!'_ It sounds like several locks are being undone, and the door cracks open slightly.

"Who's there?"

"It's us," Hermione says.

"_Hermione_?" Hagrid repeats?"

"Yes."

The door is flung open and Hagrid gathers the three of us into a rib-crushing hug!

"It's so goo' ta see ya lot!" He sobs, his tears falling upon us like a heavy rainfall, "Why haven' ya lot come ta visit me lately!"

"We've been busy," I reply, extracting myself at last, " with work for the order."

"Oh aye," Hagrid agrees, "I been doin a fair bit o' work meself, these las' few mons'. Care to hear abou' it?"

"Yes please," we all agree.

Hagrid serves us tea, and his special rock cakes. We break our teeth on them for a while before he begins talking.

"Well, Dumbledore lef' a will," He begins, "jus' a few instructions for some o' those closer to himself. I was one o' them," he states proudly. "Anyway, he says, he says I'm suppos' ta gather the fores' inhabitants and convince em' to join the fight agains' you-know-who."

"How's is going?" Ron asks.

"Some goo', some ba'," Hagrid shakes his head, "I'm havin' some trouble with the centaurs, can' convince em' tha' the war involves everyone, includin them."

"Cheer up Hagrid," Hermione pats his arm cheerfully, "there's no creature yet that our Hagrid can't handle," her comment reflects a statement, made by him some years ago, when Hermione was feeling discouraged. Hagrid beams at her, and changes the subject.

"So wha' are ya lot doin at Hogwarts?"

"Actually..." We explain everything that we've discovered. Hagrid looks gray when we finish.

"Don' know wha' Dumbledore mighta had ta do with 'arry's parents, but, the best person ta talk to might be the Headmistress."

"Professor Mcgonagall is the headmistress?" Hermione asks.

"Yea', an' a real goo' one she's been."

"Thank you," we thank him, and take our leave.

As I'm about to leave the cabin, Hagrid draws me back inside for a moment.

"Ginny," he says, "don't be discourag' or nothin, 'arry's bound ta turn up. He wanted me ta give ya somethin, in case ya ever dropped by..."

"I know he'll turn up," I'm surprised to find tears falling down my cheeks. Hagrid brushes them off a little roughly with one of his ham-sized fists. He presses something into my hand, before gently shoving me out the door. I look down; It's a roll of parchment, sealed, and tied with a red ribbon. I wipe the tears off my face and store the parchment away in my bag; Like my feelings, I will store everything away, and emerge myself in it all later.

Professor Mcgonagall is waiting for us on the front steps of the school. Her stern face is a welcome sight.

"I have been waiting for you," she says, "and I'm sure I have some very useful information for you. Please, come inside..."


	9. Chapter 9

When the War is Over: Chapter Nine

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter Series, or anything to do with it.)

"Please, come in," Mcgonagall gestures, as she leads us into her office. It's obvious she hasn't bothered to get rid of any of Dumbledore's personal effects, and it feels as though he might only have stepped out for a moment, leaving her in charge. The whirling little silver instruments continue their endless motions, and the sorting hat lies still on the table; The only thing that is missing is Phawkes, but Phawkes won't be coming back.

"As I said," she gets right down to business, as usual, "I have quite a lot of information to tell you, so this might take a while. Please, help yourself to some refreshments, and I will attempt to explain this as clearly as I can."

With a wave of her wand, a plate of sandwiches appears in front of us, along with a teapot and three porcelain tea-cups. I only politely sip some tea. "As I'm sure your aware," she begins, "the second prophecy was told by Professor Trelawney to Master Olivander while she was out buying a wand. At first You-Know-Who was only interested in acquiring Master Olivander because of his wand-crafting abilities, but, after hearing of the prophecy, he naturally wanted the two of them close at hand. I am very sure that, by now, You-Know-Who has extracted the second prophecy from Professor Trelawney, and it is only a short while before those involved in the prophecy are found. We know one of those in the prophecy is Potter, but as to his whereabouts, we are still totally in the dark." She glances at me sadly for a moment, and I know why. "I think it is safe to assume that he has been captured by the enemy."

"Actually," Hermione puts her cup down and places her hands in her lap, "we came to ask you about Harry's parents. You see, a woman named Catherine Jones claims that they had some connection with Dumbledore, and I- we," she hesitates, "don't believe that it involves just the known things, such as Dumbledore turning down the job of secret-keeper, or how they were close friends."

"Miss Granger," Mcgonagall sighs, "always so perceptive-- _what a gift_! And a curse... Yes, they go farther back than you would believe." She stands up and walks over to a silver bowl; From her robes she extracts a tiny bottle and dumps it into the bowl. She turns and beckons us to gather around it. Nervously, we lean over it;

"I would like to show you something very important," Mcgonagall says.

Suddenly I am falling downwards through blackness, only to land suddenly on my feet in an empty corridor, somewhere in Hogwarts. Mcgonagall and the others are waiting for me, and she briskly begins leading us away down the corridor. At the end of the corridor, she stops suddenly; I can hear the sounds of voices growing closer. I open my mouth to say something, but Mcgonagall silences me. Hermione and Ron look confused.

Two people are walking up the hallway, a woman with bright red hair, showing the signs of heavy pregnancy, and a man..._who looks like Harry_? I gasp, suddenly realizing that these two must be Lilly and James Potter-- _Harry's parents_! She must be pregnant with Harry! Mcgonagall smiles as she watches me.

"Yes, those are Harry's parents," she says, "they loved one another very much. This was only a few weeks before Harry was born."

"_What happened_?" I breathe as their backsdissapear around a corner.

Mcgonagall's smile vanishes, and she says, "you'll see."

She leads us up familiar pathways to the head master's office of old. We step into the office, to witness Harry's parents confronting Dumbledore.

"Albus," James's face seems strained, even with that handsome messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, "you wanted us to be here, but what is so important that you'd risk us coming out of hiding?"

Dumbledore seems to consider everyone for a few moments over those half-moon spectales.

"I need you to listen to me," he replies softly, "even though you may not like what I have to say."

"You've never said or done anything to make us dislike you," Lilly smiles. She's beautiful, with long red hair falling down her back, her eyes are gentle, and her voice is kind. "Someday wewe like our son to trust you as much as we do."

"That is precisely what I must speak to you about," Dumbledore replies, "I must be the one to bear troubling news, and I hope you will not think any less of me for it."

"Never," they reply together.

"I was down in the pub the other night, (the details are not important), and I met Professor Trelawney. She foretold of a prophecy. I feel that I must make absolutely clear, that at no time in the future after hearing this, should you go back to Godric Hollow."

Both Lilly and James lean forward expectantly.

"_Well_?" They ask.

"I believe that your son could possible be destined to defeat an evil wizard...one who will wage war not only on the Wizarding world, but the Muggle world as well. _His name is Voldemort_. The terrible news I must give you is that in order for your son to grow up and defeat him, the both of you must sacrifice your lives to save him."

"_Wha_-?" James's mouth is hanging open.

Lilly takes a step back, holding her protruding belly protectively. For the first time, there is fear in her eyes.

"_You must be joking_--" she breathes, but Dumbledore shakes his head.

"I am going to attempt to save you both; Perhaps we can change the future."

"Albus--" James embraces Lilly and strokes her hair softly as she sobs into his robes. "--_Are you sure_?"

"I am afraid so," Dumbledore's voice shakes.

_"That should be enough," Mcgonagall says as I suddenly feel my body being lifted back through blackness. I land back in her office, tears falling down my cheeks._

"What happened?" I breathe.

"From what I have pieced together, Lilly and James accepted their fates, believing that they had to do it for Harry, and for the rest of the world."

"_They knew_--" Hermione sobs into Ron's chest, and he kisses her temples and soothes her hair, "_they knew-- and they let it happen_!"

"This leaves us at a dead end," Ron comments, "we still have no idea where they might have taken Harry, Olivander, and Trelawney."

"I'm sorry I could not be of more help, but perhaps this memory will give you some insight," Mcgonagall replies.

We say goodbye to Hagrid on our way out, with the sun setting in a fierce red ball on the horizon.

_At headquarters I seek the solitude of my room, forgoing dinner or companionship. Knocks on my door are met with silence, and eventually the sounds of footsteps fade away. I lay for a long time on my bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of the sacrifice Harry's parents made for everyone. At first I feel angry, than sad, and than confused. Why would they do that? In the complete darkness of my room I roll over, the letter inside my back crackles, and I turn on a light, just now remembering it. The envelope is large, with a strange seal on it in red and gold ink. Harry's handwriting on the front makes my heart beat a little faster, and I tear it open. The letter inside says:_

_Dear Ginny,_

_I am writing this letter from Hagrid's, just before I embark on a personal quest. I know I haven't written you, and that you must be somewhere between anger and grief. First, I need to apologize for that...I am so overcome with the need to see you, that every time I try to write a letter, my hand becomes to shaky to write, and my mind draws me into a wonderful daydream of you. How I want to kiss you. How I want to hold you. How I want to spend every minute of my life with you, and never leave you again. Secondly, I need to apologize for this letter, because it is unfair of me to write such things to you, knowing how you must feel. I promise you, that when this war is over, I'll come home to you. The last thing I should apologize for, is forcing you to stay out of the war, because my own personal feelings have gotten in the way. I need to know your somewhere safe; That when all the bloodshed and pain is at it's fiercest, you will be as far away from it as you can possibly be. And now, I will embark on what I hope is the last part of this war. Soon love, I'm coming home soon. I love you!_

_Love, Love, Love Harry_

_Did I sigh_? I can feel the heat radiating from my face. My determination, which had momentarily wavered again, is stronger than ever before. I slide off the bed, determined to gather the others right away and plan our next move when suddenly-- _I realize the door is cracked open_. Did I leave it open? My wand is on the bedside table..._slowly, keeping my eyes on the door, I reach for it_-- Before I can react, strong arms wrap around me and lift me off the floor! I kick with all my might! I try to scream but a bitter tasting hand is clamped over my mouth; I sink my teeth into the warm flesh and there is a muffled grunt; Something collides with my head. Darkness takes me.


	10. Chapter 10

When the War is Over: Chapter Ten

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it).

I come to, in pitch blackness; My head feels about the size of a grapefruit, and throbs painfully when I try to move. My legs are like jelly, my senses are skewed by the darkness. The floor feels smooth beneath my hands, I grope my way as far to the right as possible, fifty hand-spans that way, and to the left, about sixty; Forward, only forty. I can feel a cool metal door beneath my fingertips, but no cracks to wedge my fingers into. Pressing my ear to the door, I can just barely hear the ringing of footsteps, drawing closer. Scrambling backwards, the door squeals open, and harsh, bright torch light fills the room.

Shading my face with my hands, I can just barely make out the shape of squat little man in front of me, breathing harshly.

"My master says you are to come with me," he wheezes, and I recognize the voice; Scabbers, or more precisely, _'Worm-tail'_, the one who sold Harry's parents out to Voldemort, and the one who pretended to be our family's pet rat for so many years. He leans forward and seizes my arm roughly, dragging me to my feet. I stumble, and he roughly shoves me forward. I stagger out into the corridor, but any hope of running flees my mind when I see an entire group of Death Eaters awaiting us, wands raised, in the corridor.

"No escape for you, pet," someone says, laughing softly. "The master is going to get inside your head...find out what you have to do with this prophecy!"

"And when he's done, he'll probably just kill you, to keep it from ever happening," another joins in.

Worm-tail hisses, and jabs me in the back with his wand. "Move," he snaps.

_After we travel a ways down the corridor, we come to a rotting wooden door with light spilling in around the cracks. A draft feels strong and cool on my face and arms; Worm-tail opens the door and shoves me outside. We stand in a high-walled courtyard, with the bare branches of the trees swaying mournfully above our heads in the cloudless blue sky. The air is cold, my muscles tighten in protest, but I am made to stumble further...and that is when I see him._

Across the courtyard, another group of Death Eaters are awaiting us, surrounding a tall figure with strikingly black hair, ragged, and under nourished. My heart explodes with joy! I willingly rush forward and feel him embrace me, tenderly at first, but than as tightly as he can.

"_Ginny_," he breathes, sending chills up and down my spine, "oh God, I tried to protect you from this..."

"I love you," I tell him firmly. Worm-tail snatches me away and shoves me backward into the arms of the Death Eaters, I hear Harry suck his breath in harshly.

"If you hurt one hair on her head, I'll _kill_ you," he says coldly.

"_I'm so scared_," Worm-tail retorts, laughing. We move on.

We eventually come to a set of double doors with the giant figure of a snake engraved upon them, curling around the brass handles menacingly. Worm-tail knocks, and than enters, shoving us on ahead of him. At first, we can see nothing clearly in the gloom; The windows have all been covered with black drapes, a fire burns in a fireplace, before a thick rug and a worn armchair. Whoever occupies the armchair is sitting with their backs to us; A giant snake lays coiled around the chair, and lifts it's head curiously for a moment, flicking a pink forked tongue at us, before settling back at the feet of it's master.

"_You have done well_," Voldemort hisses, "_I asked for him, and you brought him. I asked for her, and you delivered...you will be rewarded when I am at full power again_."

"Your compliments are thanks enough, My Lord," Worm-tail snivels.

"_Leave us_," Voldemort orders, and everyone leaves the room. The silences stretches for a time, and soon, he begins to speak again. "_Ah, I can sense your connection with this girl. You would be most devastated if something were to happen to her_."

Blinding pain explodes in my body, every fiber of my being seems to be trying to go in every direction at once. I scream, falling to the floor and clutching my hands to my head in agony.

"**Ginny**," Harry cries out, falling to his knees beside me, and cradling me protectively in his arms. "You bastard," he whispers, his green eyes flaring with hatred, "I'll kill you for this, I swear."

"_Your anger is a good thing_," Voldemort replies, releasing me from the pain, "_it makes you stronger, more easy to read...and more easy to destroy_." Harry launches himself for the armchair, only to be petrified just before he can reach it. With a sweeping motion, Voldemort rises from the chair, and steps closer to him.

What I see, sickens me. Voldemort's features are snake-like, his face is smooth and pasty white, his slits for nostrils and his narrow, flinty eyes are bathed in an evil sort of enjoyment. His long black robes rustle quietly as he moves.

"_You should know better_," he chides, raising his wand. In an explosion of light, Harry is catapulted across the room; He crashes into the far wall and slumps on the floor, barely moving. I try to rush over to him, but suddenly Voldemort is in front of me, elegantly spinning me around and gripping me across the collar bone with his cool forearm. He touches his wand to my temple lightly, and whispers the word '_Extracto_'.

_My mind seems to be full of voices, all the things I've seen and done over the past months, and all the things I've experienced in my life, seem to flash before my eyes; One voice seems to stand out more than any other._

_"I want to know what your part is, girl," it says._

_"I don't know," I answer honestly._

_"It's here, somewhere in your head, a little phrase you heard that will make all this go away."_

_"No!" I cry panic, "I don't want to tell you!"_

_"You already are," the voice replies._

_As if in a dream, I begin to recite the second prophecy, just as I read it in Olivander's shop._

_"Two were fated, two did come, two and two were one. What was lost was reclaimed, what was fated was reborn, what was done, could not be undone, and so the two were one. Be wary all ye who dare attempt, the two are meant to be: Two and two were one, and one more than, was three."_

_"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The voice laughs mockingly, "I know your part now, girl, and I'll end it just as easily as I'll end his..."_

_"You got nothing you didn't already know," I reply bravely._

_"Oh, but I did. In fact, I saw a bit of your future in it. Congratulations, and at the same time, many __sympathies."_

I am yanked from the dream like trance, to find Harry breathing harshly, and cradling me in his arms as he rushes from the room. I have no idea how he managed to get me away from Voldemort, but I can feel his warm blood seeping into the side of my shirt, and I know he must be hurt badly. He dashes through the surprised group of Death Eaters, and dodges their offensive assorted curses and hexes. We rush around a corner, through a door, and down a flight of stairs.

Eventually, I regain enough strength to walk, and even though Harry protests, I know he is slightly relieved to be able to put me down; The wound in his side is bleeding angrily, but there is no time to tend it...yet. The sounds of hurried, pursuant footsteps forces us raggedly onwards; Like a hound giving chase to a fox, we have no time to rest, no time to think of anything but forcing our tired bodies onwards to the agony of muscles screaming in protest, and lungs that feel on the verge of bursting. Eventually, we find a wooden shed, and dash into it; We wait, but the sounds of footsteps do not pursue us any further, and it seems for the moment, that we have lost them. Our breathing is ragged, and we sink to the floor, leaning heavily against the walls.

After a time, I regain enough strength to try and tend to Harry's wound, which has, thankfully, ceased it's bleeding. It looks as though we have hidden in a storage shed; There are somecrates of odds and ends, netting, tools, and some linens. I tear one of these linens into a long strip, and wrap it carefully around Harry's side. He winces slightly, but seems to settle at my touch. A guilty surge of warmth fills my heart.

"_How did_--?" He begins, but I shake my head.

"--I know you tried to keep me out of this war, but I joined of my own volition. I've been a member of the order for months now, trying to find you. When you didn't write me, when no one would talk about you, I was sure something happened," I look at him fiercely, preparing to defend myself.

"I'm not angry," he assures me, "and I feel guilty saying this...but I'm more glad to see you than anything else in the entire world right now. For months they tortured me with stories of how you'd been sought out and killed...I almost lost hope..." I silence him with a kiss, and he returns the kiss with equal love.

We go on kissing for a while, and he wraps me in his arms and draws me close. I curl my head under his chin, feeling his heartbeat, feeling his kisses on my face. He rocks me gently in his arms, soothing my fears with his presence

"How did they capture you?" I eventually ask.

"I was looking for a Hocrux, and I learned it might be in this castle. I came here on my own, just to check things out, and without realizing it, I walked right into Voldemort's lair. I couldn't escape..."

"I had just come from Hogwarts, seeking another clue to your whereabouts, and they snatched me from headquarters." I explain.

"_Hogwarts_--" Harry whispers. I sense a sadness, a yearning, in his voice.

"It's still safe," I assure him, kissing him tenderly. I think I might never be able to stop kissing him, and it seems as though he feels the same. His kisses are like oxygen to me, I need them to live. Soon, he spreads one of the linen sheets on the floor and lays me down, pressing himself down on top of me. Our kisses grow more wild, more passionate, I feel the heat of our bodies mixing together erotically.

He breaks our passionate kisses, and studies me with his intense green eyes. Brushing a few strands of hair from my forehead, he smiles.

"_I missed you_," he whispers, "_so many months I longed for you_. I thought I'd go crazy with love and worry, and all the time I was afraid you might have found another."

"_Never_," I breathe fiercely, "you are the only person in the world I've ever wanted to be with. I'll die before I'll love someone else."

"Don't die," he replies, "live, for me."

"I'm ready," I tell him, making up my mind all at once, "I'm ready for you."

"I won't take advantage of you," he refuses.

"You can't take advantage of someone who loves you," I tell him. He hesitates a moment longer, but seeing the determination in my eyes, lowers his head, and kisses me on the neck, _on the collarbone_...

What seems like hours later, we lay side-by-side, naked and panting underneath some linen sheets. I love watching the way his chest rises and falls rhythmically, or the way his messy black hair falls on his face. He rolls over and props his head on one arm, brushing my face with his fingertips; My eyes flutter closed, the sensation of his touch is so powerful.

"I can't stop touching you," he says, "I'm so afraid I'll wake up and find out I've been dreaming."

"I know the feeling," I agree as I curl up next to him and lay my head on his chest." I want to lay like this forever, but common sense eventually wins out. "We should try to get out of this place," I say.

"I know," he replies, and he kisses me sweetly on the forehead, "I love you."

We dress, and I blush, knowing that his eyes are roving my body. The experience is still new to me, and there are new aches, new feelings in my body that weren't there before, but there is also a sense of peace, and of fulfillment. In turn, I watch him dress, admiring his lean musculature, and his grace.

_We sneak from the shed, careful not to even breathe to loudly. We should be suspicious when we come across the gates of the castle, and find no one guarding them, but we are so anxious to be on the other side, to get away from here, that the ambush happens before we can even blink._

_The castle gates creek open omniously; I'm ahead of Harry, when suddenly hexes and curses cloud the air. I instinctively duck, and Harry shields me protectivly with his body. There is a chorus of shouts, and we look back; A full group of Death Eaters is charging at us! I suddenly see a grim determination in Harry's eyes, I know what he is going to do, but he reacts before I can do anything to stop him._

He grabs me to him and hugs me fiercely, kissing me on the lips. "**I love you**," he whispers fiercly, "don't give up. Now-- _run_!"

In a split second, he shoves me through the gates! I stumble and fall on my knees. Whirling around, I see the gates closing between us; I catch a last, fleeing glimpse of him looking sadly at me, and than I am locked out. All the noise, all the fierce battling, is suddenly gone. In the quiet, I hear a sob escape my throat. I launch myself at the gates, and pound on them until my fists are bloody, but nothing happens. _Why did he do it? Why did he save me, only to be recaptured himself? Because he loved you enough to sacrifice himself, I tell myself. 'Don't give up!' I hear him say. Alright than, I won't give up. Now that I know where you are being held, I can bring reinforcements, and we'll save you-- **I promise**!_ I turn away from the castle, and make my way to the nearest village, needing to get in contact with the order.

_Several weeks pass by, I'm back at the order, trying to gather reinforcements to save Harry, but the proceedings are slow. I can provide only a limited knowledge of the layout of the castle, and it's not enough to wage a full scale attack yet. Our plans must be planned accordingly, and I understand this, but my impatience grows. So much so, that I begin to have fits of nausea and irritability; I throw up quite often._

One day, after the second or third time I've had to rush to the bathroom, I step out to find Hermione waiting for me. She looks at me anxiously, and leads me off to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"How often have you been throwing up in the past couple weeks?" She ask pointedly.

"Only a couple times, most days," I reply uncomfortably. _What's she getting at_?

"You've been irritable, nauseous, impatient..." Hermione counts off all my symptoms on her fingers, "and your also lying to me. You and Harry did some 'things' when you got back together, didn't you?"

"I don't know what your talking about," I blatantly lie, the experience still fresh in my mind, even after a few weeks.

"Oh _please_," Hermione sounds disappointed, "we're both girls, and I'm not going to lecture you on what Harry and you have done. I just care about you, and if your carrying his child, than just be honest with me."

"I honestly don't know," I reply a little sheepishly, "I just thought all these things were symptoms of stress."

Hermione presses something into my hand and steers me from the room. A pregnancy test? I glance up at her, but she shakes her head.

"Just test it out-- _please_, for my sake?"

In the bathroom, I sweat it out, pacing back and forth, afraid to learn the truth. Eventually, Hermione knocks on the door and asks if I need any help, and I make up my mind to find out one way or another. Several tense minutes later, I have my answer. With shaky hands, I read the codes on the box... Dropping the box on the floor, I sit down heavily on the toilet; Hermione knocks, and than enters. From the expression on my face, it's obvious what the answer is.

"_I'm...carrying our baby_," I whisper, shock waves rippling through my body.

"Are you scared?" Hermione asks, placing an arm around my shoulders comfortingly.

"No," I answer truthfully, "but...I think I may understand a little bitmore about the prophecy now."

"How's that?" Hermione humors me.

"_Two and two were one, and one more than, was three_," I repeat the last lines of the prophecy, "and if I'm right--"

"--Don't think about that now," Hermione cuts in, "right now, just think about the little one. Girl or boy, it's yours and Harry's baby, this is a happy moment."

"Your right," I reply, smiling, "this is a happy moment, and I am _just going to be happy_."


	11. Chapter 11

**When the War is Over: Chapter Eleven**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it.)

Snow lies heavily on the ground, and I curl deeper under a blanket in the chair. Soon, I'll have to go down and confess the truth; I know I won't be allowed anywhere near the order afterwards, I'll be forced to go home. I think of Harry, and my body trembles slightly; The last memory of him has not faded, his sad face, his kiss, his touch... Subconsciously I rub my stomach, a nervous habit I've picked up since learning the truth. There is no bump yet, but I know there will be, eventually.

Hermione enters the room, and studies me worriedly. Lately, there have been too many worry-lines creasing her smooth face. She tries to hide the anxiety, but I know she feels the pressing of time just as badly as I do. We haven't discussed the second prophecy since I learned I was carrying our baby, but I am sure it will come up at the meeting.

"Shall we go?" Hermione asks anxiously.

"Yes," I reply.

Downstairs, everyone is assembled in the kitchen. I can't look at my brother, afraid I might find some shame in his eyes, even before telling him. I glance at Moody as I step into the room, and his magical eye swivels, following me across the kitchen. There could never be any hiding from Moody, I'm sure he knows the truth already, his magical eye would have told him. Mum and dad have come as well, and I can't bare to look at them either.

"Everyone," Hermione announces, motioning at me, "Ginny has something she needs to tell you all."

I step forward, every eye on me, and I feel the shame; Blood rushes to my face, my body trembles slightly.

"Everyone," I say, "I know I told you that when I was captured, I found out where they had been keeping Harry-- I know I told you that we escaped, but were ambushed at the gates, and that he sacrificed himself to save me, but what I didn't tell you is that Harry and I-- We did some things that we shouldn't be proud of, but those things have lead to something wonderful."

"Gin, what are you trying to say?" Ron asks me gently, "whatever it is, I can promise that at least _I_ won't hold it against you."

"I'm carrying our baby," I reply, letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

Mum staggers backwards, and dad has to support her; Ron's mouth falls open in shock, and the rest of the those grouped in the kitchen start mummering among themselves.

"There's more!" I interject, before anyone can say anything, "I believe that this child is a part of the second prophecy, although I don't know _how_ quite yet. I believe the second prophecy concerns the three of us, Harry, myself, and our baby."

"Oh, _sweetheart_," Mum finally regains some of her senses back, "that's quite a leap-- I'm not unhappy to be a future grandmother, but...you knew that wasn't the right thing to do..."

"We just want whats best for you and the baby," Dad adds, "these are dangerous times."

"What's done is done," Moody interrupts, "what we should be deciding on now is weather to allow her to be in the order anymore. If she's carrying a child, and this child could potentially be part of the second prophecy, thanshe ought to be taken somewhere more secure."

"I don't want to go anywhere," I shout, knowing my protests will be futile.

"Gin," Ron stands up, "I know you want to help him, but think of your child. Would he want you both to be in danger? I think he'd want you to go somewhere safe."

"Ginny," Hermione touches my arm softly, "let's let them argue it out for a bit."

I nod and follow her out of the room. In the hallway, just outside my room, we stop; Hermione's face is lost in shadow.

"Your planning on going anyways?" She says.

"Yes," I reply, "If I stay here, they'll take me to the ends of the earth, and keep me there until the war is over-- and who knows how long that's going to be? With the 'Chosen One' in enemy hands, the war could go on forever. Besides, if I'm part of this prophecy, I need to be there to fulfill it."

"I'm coming with you," Hermione says.

Suddenly, Ron appears; He looks at our guilty faces, shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair.

"You guys are going, aren't you?"

"If you try and stop me, I'll give you such a bad bat-bogey hex that your face will take a week to recover!" I threaten, but he only sighs.

"I'm coming too," he says, "your my little sister, and your baby's father is my best mate. Harry would never forgive me if I let something happen to you guys."

"Or me either," Hermione chimes in.

"Than let's go," I say.

_The castle looms at us on the horizon, a monstrous black shape, stabbing it's jagged towers into the perfect blue sky. The biting cold makes my eyes water, but Hermione and Ron have forced me to pad down with so much warm clothing that I am amazed my broom does not fall out of the sky from the weight of it all. We alight at the castle gates, but nothing happens._

The gates have been left ajar, no sound emits from the courtyard further in, and I am aware of a trap closing steadily around us. Where is everyone? Why haven't we been spotted and captured, or killed, yet? _'I saw a bit of your future-- Congratulations, and at the same time, many sympathies'_ I hear Voldemort say once again.

"Guys, I don't think we have to worry about being captured," I tell them, "I think I'm supposed to find Harry, for whatever reason."

"Alright," Ron says, "but let's be on guard anyways."

We creep through the castle, quieter than mice. The empty halls and passages are eerily quiet, my breath fogs before my face. Doesn't anyone believe in heat around here? Finally, we come to a large, white building with a curved, dome-like apperance. I stop before the silver doors, studying the engraved, curling gold snakes, and the serpent shaped handles.

"I think I need to go on alone," I explain.

Hermione and Ron glance at once another. Ron turns me around and looks me in the eyes.

"Are you sure about this Gin?" He asks me seriously, "because if your not, we can come with you."

"No," I force myself to say, "I think it's supposed to be this way. Don't worry, I still have to fulfill my end of the prophecy."

_My hand automatically flies to my stomach as I push open the doors. The inside of the building is no warmer than the outside; My breathing increases, my nerves stand on end. The doors behind me slam shut! I spin around, preparing to dash back to them, but an ominous laughter rumbles through the building._

"_Welcome_," Voldemort's voice vibrates the floor beneath my feet, "_I see that you've returned_. _Still trying to rescue him_? _You'll find he's become more-- agreeable to our 'posistion'_.

From the far end of the room, the shadows seem to waver, a handsomefigure dressed in silver and black armor, wearing a sword on one hip, andcarrying a wand in his hand, is revealed. He kneels before Voldemort, head lowered in respect.

"**No**," I whisper, falling to my knees, "no_, this can't be_--"

"_Oh, but it can_," Voldemort laughs, "_Harry is my loyal servant_." Voldemort turns to Harry, and beckons him to rise. Harry rises smoothly, dead black eyes seeing nothing around him. "_Dispose of her for me_," he commands, stepping back into the shadows.

Harry gracefully draws his sword; Black flames erupt around it, dancing in the pale light of the room. The wand in his hand points at me.His once fierce greeneyes do not see me, they don't register anything but the command to kill.

"_Avara Kedavara_," he whispers.

I duck to the side, just barely missing the killing curse; I roll sideways to avoid a sword swing that would have cleaved me in two. Rising, I am blasted backwards by a bolt of lightning erupting almost at point-blank range; I am slammed into the wall, the breath leaves my body. Black specks dance before my eyes, and a pair of black boots appears before me.

"Die," Harry hisses, raising his sword above his head. He brings the sword down with all his might, and I close my eyes, waiting for the killing blow. It never comes; A ringing noise echos through the hallway. I open my eyes; Ron is standing in front of me, parrying Harry's sword swing with what looks like a Patronus shield.

"Sorry mate," Ron says grimly, "Not today."

With all his might, he uses the Patronus shield to launch Harry across the room. Harry crashes into the wall, only to struggle to his feet, leaning heavily on his sword and raising his wand at us menacingly. Wordlessly, Ron scoops me into his arms and runs from the room. Outside, Hermione is dancing back and forth on her toes.

"We have to get of here!" Ron shouts.

A blast explodes a building ahead of us as we rush for the gates, and we have to dodge the falling debris. Ron drops me and I roll before springing to my feet. Ron and Hermione grab my arms and pull me along; We dash through the gates, grab our broomsticks, and blast into the air!

_Back at headquarters, my heart seems to have lost it's will to beat. I feel as though the world has crashed down around me, and I stand in the ruins, the only one who remembers what everything used to look like. For all I care, the world might really have fallen down around me. A knock at the door breaks my thoughts._

"Go away Hermione!" I snap, rolling over on my bed. Someone enters the room, and I hunch into a tighter ball, refusing to speak with them.

"Ginny dear," Mum says gently, sitting on the bed behind me, and brushing my back softly, "you really should eat something. It's not healthy for the baby, if you don't eat right."

"I know," the anger seems to flow from my body, leaving me feeling drained and empty, "Mum, I've made such a mess of things!"

Mum begins to hum a lullaby, something she sang to me when I was a child.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," she soothes my hair, "I know it doesn't sound like much, hearing that now, but in time you'll come to understand. What is important is that somewhere deep inside, the Harry that loves you, that loves your baby, is still alive. Somewhere deep inside, he's waiting to be rescued."

Unbidden, fat teardrops roll down my cheeks. I roll over and bury my head in her lap. I let the pain wash over me, I let everything I've tried to ignore sink in. Mum sings her lullaby and soothes my hair, and I cry out everything I've been trying so desperately to hide.

"Will I ever be able to save him?" I whisper. Mum kisses my temple.

"Most certainly," she replies.


	12. Chapter 12

**When the War is Over: Chapter Twelve**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it.)

_In my dream, I wander through our house, running my hands across all the familiar objects; The couch is worn, the table is smooth, and the walls are solid. I notice that the windows are clouded; I try rubbing a hole in one of the window panes, but outside all I can see is tendrils of fog swirling around near the ground. A shiver runs up my spine, and I draw my sweater tighter around my protruding belly. In my dream, Harry comes down the stairs with a wide grin on his face. He draws me into an embrace, and kisses me for long time; I am breathless when we part._

_"What was that for?" I ask playfully, leaning against his chest._

_"Can't I kiss my wife?" He replies._

_"Anytime," I breathe._

_A golden band shines from his hand, matching the one I wear on my own._

_"Come into the kitchen," he takes my hand and pulls me, "I have something to show you."_

_In the kitchen, he turns away from me and seemingly bends over the counter. With a grin on my face, I fold my arms and wait._

_"What is it?" I ask with mock impatience._

_"This," he says. He turns around and plunges the sword through my chest before I have time to react._

I awaken bated in sweat, my heart pounding in my throat! I feel my chest, but no sword wound is there, leaking my life blood from my body, so I throw off the covers. Sliding out of bed, I put one hand on my stomach to steady my large belly, and waddle to the window. The full moon is a haunting yellow and hangs high in the star strewn sky; A shadow seems to move across it..._was it my imagination just now_?

I shiver, vividly reliving the dream, and I wonder, _is he looking at the same sky right now_? _I'm so close to having the baby, will I ever be able to show her to him_? I feel it in my blood, and it presses on my mind and heart, this prophecy; I know it must be fulfilled, and soon, but the details are still not there. It seems they have temporarily abandoned the castle, and our best laid plans must now be revised; We are back at square one. I know it's early, I know I should go back to bed, snuggle under the covers and keep the chill of the night away from the baby, but I am restless, this dream has alerted all my senses into wakefulness.

I slip on my robe and slippers, and slip out into the corridor, no one is in sight. Wandering aimlessly up and down the corridors, I soon find myself at our makeshift owlery. The door creeks open ominously, but only a few bright eyes greet me, most of the owls have gone hunting. My breath mists before me; The owls shuffle their feathers irritably, perhaps in annoyance that I might have come to send a message at this hour. The large window is pushed open, but the view beyond is just of the plain brick wall that surrounds Grimauld Place.

Hedwig suddenly soars through the window, the only white owl in the owlery, and finally healthy enough to deliver messages again. She studies me with one eye, and clicks her talons at me; I notice a letter tied to her leg. _Who would be using Hedwig to send messages_? I wonder, but I take the letter anyway, and let curiosity get the better of me. I nearly drop it when I recognize Harry's seal! Tearing it open, I pour over it.

_Dear Ginny,_

_If you have received this message, than all hope is not lost. I cannot say much, only that my behavior months earlier was the result of Voldemort twisting my mind against you all. I know I must have frightened you terribly, and for that I am sorry. The reason I write this, is that I might have a chance to escape, but I need your help! A window of opportunity is going to present itself soon, but I cannot get out alone. Meet me at the gates of the castle at noon on the 21st, and I help me! I look forward to seeing our daughter._

_Love,  
Harry_

Confused, I turn the letter over, but there is nothing else written. His words somehow sound...so cold. How does he know about our baby? I wasn't pregnant enough to show when we last met...The 21st is tommrow...

_In the kitchens the next day, Moody and Lupin pour over the letter._

"I'm afraid we'll need to conduct a whole list of spells on this letter, to prove Harry really wrote it," Lupin announces.

"How long will that take?" I ask.

"Give me about three weeks," Lupin suggests.

"Three weeks!" I shout, "in three weeks our window of opportunity will have passed! We have to be there at noon today!"

Hermione and Ron glance at each other.

"Ginny," she says quietly, "there really isn't a '_we_' in this matter. In your condition, do you honestly think we'd let you go with us?"

"Thank you for reminding me that I'm carrying the _'Chosen One's_' baby," I snap, feeling guilty for doing so, "but I'm not about to sit around and let my baby's father rot in Voldemort's hands while you all try to figure out if a letter was really written by him."

"_Now that's not fair_," Ron says, seeing tears spring to Hermione's eyes at my cold remark; He suddenly looks angry, "we all care about Harry as much as you do Gin, but you have to think about what your doing! How are you going to help him like that?"

"Someone has to help him!" I whirl around, and waddle from the room. I know I've hurt them, but I'm tired of waiting, tired of wishing, _tired of wanting_. If they won't help him, I'll do it myself.

In my room, I pack a bag with some small items like medicine in it, and I gently ease open my window. Aiming my broom, I hover a few inches off the floor, and gently glide through the open window. A soft rain is starting to fall, and I pray I'll make it before the storm hits with it's full force. I fly forever, the rain grows steadily worse. I am drenched when I alight on the ground before the castle gates. Nothing matters now, just getting to Harry.

I can hear voices calling to me, voices that sound like Ron and Hermione, but I don't stop. Harry stands in the middle of the courtyard, drenched in the fine rain, unmoving, with his back to me.

"Harry!" I cry out, rushing towards him. He turns around opens his arms to me. I rush into them, needing this, _needing him_. "How did you escape!" My tears fall all over his face and clothes, and I kiss him over and over again.

"It was easy," he replies, a little to coldly, and I freeze. Where is the familiar warmth? Where is the gentle tone in his voice? I look up into his dead black eyes, the fear is like an electric current coursing though body.

"Time to die," he hisses.

With a powerful sweep of his arm he launches me backwards through the air. Something connects with my body, piercing it though and leaving me sagging ten feet above the air. In shock, I reach up, feeling the jagged stone spear protruding through my chest.

Harry's eyes suddenly clear, and he shakes his head; He looks at me with wide eyes, and I hear him scream my name. Ron and Hermione are somewhere nearby, I can hear them howling in agony. My last thoughts are of the baby that will never be born, of the life I will never share with Harry or my friends and family; _I die_...


	13. Chapter 13

**When the War is Over: Chapter Thirteen**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it. I also don't own any copyrights to the Beetles song 'Yesterday', or anything to do with it).

**Yesterday All my troubles seemed so far away **

**Now it looks as though they're here to stay Oh I believe in yesterday...**

**Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be **

**There's a shadow hanging over me...**

**Why she had to go I don't know **

**She wouldn't say I said something wrong **

**Now I long For yesterday.**

My mind clears; I feel the drain of energy in my body as though I'd been hit with a thousand boulders, and I've staggered my way to safety, only to find that it's not so safetey after all. I can't make my eyes leave her still body; I can't make my body move towards her. My heart refuses to beat, and my mind can't process any of this.

Ron is here. Hermione is here. Harry _is not_ here. Harry would never have killed his girlfriend. He would never be unable to make his body move if he did something like that. Ron, with Hermione's help, is gently lifting her down. Her ruined figure, _bulging_...? I feel dirty watching them take her down, my body springs into action!

"**Don't touch her**!" I scream, flinging myself on top of her, suddenly mad as the grief overwhelms me.

"_I have to get her down mate_!" Ron can't seem to make his tone very angry, through the tears. Hermione has collapsed on the ground, unable to move, the sobs visibly racking her body. Ron looks at me, and I nod; He tries to console Hermione while I gently look over Ginny.

_Ginny_...I know the sobs are racking my body too. The shock subsides, but the pain lingers, hot and sharp. I tenderly brush aside a few coppery tendrils of hair, plastered to her forehead by the rain. No more blood flows from the wound in her bulging stomach. Strangely, my voice mirrors perfect calm.

"_She was pregnant_?"

Ron freezes, and Hermione, bursts into sobs all over again. Ron looks away sharply, tears staining his own face, mud splattered all over his and Hermione's clothes.

"A few weeks after she got back together with you," he replies.

I brush her face with a tender, parting kiss. I know what I have to do. I know what this war is about. I stand up, feeling the constant weight of the world on my shoulders. Mourn for her later, I tell myself, there will be plenty of time to mourn for them later...

"Are you going to finish it?" Ron asks grimly.

"I have to," is all I reply, and I walk away from her. I can't look back, if I do, I won't be able to go on.

"I'm coming with you." I know arguments will be a waste of time. This is my fault, and Ron has a right to his vengeance.

"_Hermione_," I can't look at her, I'll fall apart if I do, "go back to the order. Tell them what happened here. Tell them-- tell them the _Chosen One_ is going to finish it once and for all."

"**But**--"

"**Go**!" I shout, meaning for my voice, my demeanor, to be harsh. Ron gives me a sharp glance, but nods. I don't hear her leave; I walk on, with Ron striding silently at my side. I'll kill him. I'll kill him for my own Mum and Dad, I'll kill him for Sirius, for Dumbledore, and for them... I'll kill him for every single life he has taken away. When I finish, it won't matter if I get out of here, I'm going to be with her, _one way or another_.

I don't know how I knew where I was going, so much of the past months have been a fog, but I know when I reach that circular dome, that he is waiting inside.

The doors creek open; He stands in the center of the room, laughing maliciously.

"I see you've awoken. Pity, I enjoyed the idea of your servitude for eternity."

**"Draw--- Your--- Wand---"** I command. He laughs again.

"Have it your way then." He swings around and launches a well aimed fireball at my chest.

I manage to duck just in time, feeling the scorched hairs on my arm. Ron tosses a fireball back, and Voldemort dodges it easily.

"I'm going to kill you, for what you've done to my sister," he screams.

"I'll do much worse to the rest of your family, _I promise_," Voldemort laughs. He twitches his wand in a strange fashion, and more fireballs launch from it's tip.

Stone debris crumbles around us, and I throw myself on top of Ron to shield him from it. Pain rips through my body; I feelhis curse tear through every fiber of my body, forcing my movements to Voldemort's will. He laughs, and I feel a force gripping my throat; It lifts me off of Ron and dangles me in the air. Black flecks swim before my eyes, _I-- can't--- breathe---_

Voldemort screams, and flings me to the ground. Ron has just launched another fireball, and it's hit him directly in the face; His skin crackles, and falls away. A rancid smell permeates the room, and I have to clutch my mouth or vomit. Voldemort raises his hands to his face, and seems to feel his way along invisible seams, before tearing the rest of the charred skin away. Underneath is a shiny, pink, new face, just like his old one. With a flick of his wand, he disarms Ron, and with another, flings him back against the wall; Menacingly, he takes a step towards Ron, when suddenly a great cry fills the air.

Looking up, we see a red phoenix soaring towards us; In it's talons it carries a gleaming sword. It cries out again, sweeps down, and drops the sword before my feet.

"_Phawkes_?" I whisper, "I thought you died!"

Phawkes eyes me, and than sweeps back into the sky. Without a moment's hesitation, I bend and grab the sword. I take a fighting stance, and watch as Voldemort sweeps across the room towards me; He smoothly pulls a sword out of thin air, that just the opposite of mine: black, with flames licking it's blade.

"Shall we?" He offers, and I charge him.

He brings his sword up and I duck back, to avoid slicing my stomach open. The sword's barest touch burns a sliver of a line across my chest, tearing though my shirt, and leaving raw skin in it's wake. I immediately feint for his knees, and when he tries to block, I bring my sword up and try to slice across his chest. He parry me easily, and we are suddenly blade-locked. With all my force, I try to force the X our blades make closer to his neck, but he forces me back and I stumble. He takes advantage of this and swings for my head, I land on my back, just barely parrying his sword with one arm. With a menacing smile he pushes his sword closer to my neck; Closer, closer-- an inch from my neck-- half an inch-- a sliver-- _My arm trembles under the pressure, and I know any moment I'm going to die_.

Voldemort backs off suddenly, and a fireball blasts between us. Ron staggers to his feet, and charges him.

"**Ron no**!" I scream. Voldemort tries to run him through with his sword, but Ron twists to the side at the last moment, spinning around and jabbing his wand into the back of Voldemort's neck. I see the breifest look of surprise cross Voldemort's face.

"**Avara-- Kedavara--**!" He hisses, and a blast of light erupts form the end of Ron's wand. Voldemort screams and he seems to explode all at once, tissue and blood splatter everything! I duck, and cover my face, his blood burns like acid on my skin.

The sudden silence is deafening. I look up, to see Ron's eyes, wide with shock, his body coated in matter to grotesque to comprehend! He looks at his wand in confusion, as though he has no idea how to use it. I rise, wanting to help him, when suddenly a black figure seems to coalesce from the matter splattered all over the floor.

"**Look out**!" I shriek, and I snatch my sword from the floor and charge for Ron. With one hand I toss Ron to the side, and with the other arm I run Voldemort through with my sword. The matter, the half-formed Voldemort seems to shatter into a thousand pieces like glass! There is an explosion of light, and a harsh wind seems to rise from out of nowhere, whipping my skin like a thousand needles. Horrendous screams cloud the air, I have to drop my the sword and cover my ears or be deafened by it! The half-formed Voldemort staggers backwards, the sword that I lodged in his chest swinging wildly. He seems to convulse, and than suddenly stand still; Pieces of glass fire in a thousand directions, I feel them pierce my chest, my blood flows freely from my body. I am blinded by the light, deafened by the noise, and wounded beyond healing. My last thoughts are..._Ginny...I'm coming, wait for me!_

_It could have been an hour, a day, or several years. I don't feel the passing of time in this place. The air is still here, warm and white and welcoming. I feel her presence nearby, even though I can't see her._

_"Are we dead?" I ask._

_"Do you want to be?" She replies.  
"Can't I stay here with you?" I beg._

_"And do what?"_

_"Stay here with you--" I repeat._

_"The trouble with you Harry," she lectures, "is that your so determined to do things on your own-- your so determined that no one should suffer on your accoun-- that you've forgotten."_

_"Forgotten what?" I ask._

_"Everyone who ever loved you did what they did exactly because of that."_

_"Did what?"_

_"You know."_

_"You know," I sigh, "I don't know--"_

_"Don't give up so easily! Whatever you do, don't give up--"_

_I feel her presence fading, I feel the pain in my body, and I can hear the voices of the people around me crying. I don't want to go, but she won't let me stay._

_"I don't want to go--" I start to say, but it's as though a warmth was sweeping through my body, like one of our many tender kisses._

_"I love you---" She whispers, and it's as though I can see her, looking anxious, looking scared, motioning for me to stay, to go back to the world. Her beautiful red hair bounces on her shoulders; She holds her protruding stomach with a motherly stomach. "I love you--"_

_"I will---" but she's so far away, so faint, I don't get to finish._

"Harry!" I can hear Ron, but I come back slowly, unwillingly.

"_What_?" I mumble, he's been shaking me harshly for several minutes, "_what_--- **WHAT**?"

Ron stumbles backwards in astonishment. "Sorry mate!" He breathes, "I didn'tsee you'd woken up!"

I sit up slowly, my body aching in a thousand tiny places. The force of Ginny's death burns in the pit of my stomach.

"Sorry mate," I say, "I didn't mean to scare you. How long was I out?"

"Doesn't matter," he replies, "let's just get the heck out of here."

"Sure," I don't care if I'm here or there. I don't care where I go or what I do from this moment on, because she's dead... _I wanted to die Ginny, I wanted to die and stay there with you..._

_The courtyard is untouched, and I take Ginny's lifeless body tenderly in my arms. The rain has stopped, and the clouds have cleared, cruelly revealing a perfect blue sky. The sunlight warms my body, and falls upon Ginny's features, so perfect, so perfect._

"Look!" Ron points to the sky, and we can see a group of people preparing to land. Soon, we're surrounded by a somber group of order members. I am cradling Ginny near my chest, and I am about to say something, when suddenly I feel the slightest of kicks from Ginny's stomach. Glancing down, I feel my breath catch; I can hardly dare to hope--!

"She's still alive!" Someone shouts, studying her carefully, "and I think she's ready to deliver!"

_The next days of my life are a hell, and a joy._

At St. Mungo's I pace nervously outside of the delivery room. Ron and Hermione try desperately to remain calm, but I can see their anxiety, and I know why. Ginny was so far gone when we brought her in, that we didn't know if either of them would make it.

The doors swing open, and a pristine looking nurse marches out. Nervously, I try to flatten my hair, but as usual it never works.

"Mr. Potter?" She states, and I nod. "Come with me," and she twirls on her heels and marches through the double doors. Nervously, I follow. On my in, I bump into someone, who seems in a hurry to get out. He's gone so fast that I don't have time to excuse myself.

She leads me to a room, and motions for me to enter. Inside, I see a group of doctors and nurses gathered around Ginny's bed. They turn when I enter, and grins break out all over their faces.

"Mr. Potter," one of them says, "congratulations, your a father. It's a girl."

I feel my knees buckle, and I rush to her bedside. Ginny is frail looking, pale, yet she cradles our daughter in her arms as protectively as though Voldemort might walk through the door at any moment. My heart melts as I see our beautiful little girl wave her fists, and gurgle.

"She's beautiful--" I breathe, and Ginny kisses her forehead lovingly. One of the doctors lifts her up gently, and I cradle her in my arms. I stroke tiny hercheek and she turns her delicate mouth and sucks on my finger, gripping it with her fragile little fist. "_Daddy's here_," I coo, "_Daddy's here, and he loves you so much_!"

"What are we going to name her?" Ginny whispers.

"_Rachel_," it suddenly comes to mind, "_we'll call her Rachel_."

Ginny leans back on her pillows tiredly, "_Rachel Potter_," she tries, "it's beautiful!"

Rachel is so little, so precious, with a shock of pitch black hair and bright green eyes. Soon, she falls asleep in my arms, and the nurses take her away to the nursery. Sitting down next to Ginny, we're finally alone.

"You know," I let the fear lace my voice, "I didn't know if you were going to make it..."

"You doubt things so easily," she smiles, and in her eyes I see all I've ever wanted, or will ever want again."

"I was so scared," I take her hand and kiss it softly, so afraid that she might suddenly dissappear.

"I wasn't," she says bravely, and I love the way she's always so brave, "I knew you'd rescue me."

"But I hurt you," I feel a few tears slide down my cheeks, "I hurt the one person I was trying to protect the most!"

"**I love you**," she looks me deeply in the eyes.

"_Look_," I tryto compose myself, wanting this to be perfect, "I wanted to wait until you were out of the hospital, but I just can't-- So I'm going to do this now, and if you don't want to answer right away, than I'll understand."

"Do what?" She asks.

Form inside my pocket, I pull out a little box. Opening it up, her eyes widen as she sees the glitter of the ring.

"_Will you marry me_?" I breathe.

She suddenly grabs me and pulls me on down top of her, crying out in joy and kissing me all over my face! I laugh and turn my head, kissing her on the lips; A kiss that sweeps through me.

"Of course I will!" She laughs, happy tears falling down her face.

_Her heart monitor suddenly starts beeping louder. I feel her grip on the back of neck slipping, and I pull back, looking at her worriedly. Alarm bells ring in my head as I see her eyes rolling back in her head! Her heart monitor begins to beep insanely fast, I dash out into the hallway and shout for help!_

Within minutes, I've been ushered into the hallway, allowed to watch through the windows as they frantically try to calm her heartbeat! Doctors are scrambling around the room, all kinds of strange instruments are being used on her, magical and non-magical.

Unable to stand it a moment longer I try to rush back into the room, but the nurses drag me out into the hallway. Suddenly, Hermione and Ron appear by my side and try to restrain me!

"**Let me go**!" I scream, "**I need to go to her**!"

"**Harry, it's to late**," Hermione is sobbing again, "Harry-- **she's gone**!"

"**What do you mean gone**?" I shove my way through the doctors and nurses; Ginny lies still in the hospital bed, the diamond ring on her finger glinting in the sunlight pouring through the windows. I can barely comprehend that only a few minutes ago we were kissing, and talking about getting married. Glass shatters!-- I feel blood pouring down my hand, and a few nurses jump back, startled. I've just punched the glass window with my fist, shattering it, and cutting myself badly in the process.

"Harry!" Hermione shouts.

"**WHAT--- HAPPENED---"** I can barely talk, my teeth are clenched so tightly; I feel anger coursing though my body. _How dareyou give her to me, only to take her away again! Do you think you can keep her from me this time!_ I shout inside my head.

"Heart failure," one of the doctors says grimly, coming into the hallway, "her heart simply failed her."

"Mate," Ron is saying, while Hermione tugs on my arm, "don't be like this. What about your daughter?"

_Rachel...I could never forget about you_, I think, _Ginny why did you have to leave me_?


	14. Epilouge

**When the War is Over: Epilogue**

(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter Series, or anything to do with it. I also don't own any copyrights to the Switchfoot song 'Dare You To Run' either.)

**_Welcome to the planet _**

**_Welcome to existence _**

**_Everyone's here _**

**_Everyone's here _**

**_Everybody's watching you now..._**

**_Everybody waits for you now.  
_**

**_What happens next?  
_**

**_What happens next?_**

_We buried Ginny today. Over and over again I see myself putting the flowers on her coffin; I hear it squeal as it is dropped into the ground. I can smell the fresh dirt as they cover her. She'll sleep forever now. I can't think straight, and the only times I feel like I am thinking clearly are when I'm holding Rachel._

_Rachel's cries out for her mother, and how do I explain to her that her mother will never be able to hold her again? How do I console her when I have no way of consoling myself? I took our daughter to Godric Hollow; I got a house there. Most people are just happy the war is over-- most people will do just about anything for the 'Chosen One' and his daughter; I'm the hero who saved us all._

_Some hero I am. I couldn't save Ginny..._

**_Dare you to run _**

**_Dare you to run _**

**_Dare you to lift yourself off of the floor _**

**_Dare you to move _**

**_Dare you to move _**

**_Like today never happened _**

**_Like today never happened...  
_**

**_At all..._**

_Today, like most days, I wake up and take care of Rachel, and I do all the things around the house that need to be done, and than I just sit and stare at Ginny's picture. I can't find the energy to go out and live life in this new, free world. I can't bare the thought of being around others, so afraid they are all calling me a failure behind my back._

_I went to Hermione and Ron's wedding. I kissed Hermione and clapped Ron on the back. Ginny's mom held Rachel while I played the part of Ron's best man. My thoughts are all scattered because nothing seems to fit right with Ginny gone. Rachel cries, and I cradle her in my arms._

_The phone rings, and I answer it. The voice on the other end makes my skin crawl. I drop the receiver, it crashes to the floor. In the background Rachel wails with all the force of her tiny lungs. The voice on the other end, it rings in my head._

_"I just saw her!"_

_"Her who?"_

_"Ginny!"_

_"Ginny's dead!"_

_"No! I just saw her on a street corner, on the arm of a strange man!"_

_"I don't believe you!"_

_"Believe me," Ron says, and I can hear Hermione in the background, "I saw Ginny!"_

**Please stay tuned for a sequel, and please feel free to review!**

**May the flame of your inspiration burn ever brightly.**


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